


Fire and Ice

by Hidge



Series: Fire and Ice [1]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Artists and Lawyers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Shameless Smut, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, more like fwb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23773570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hidge/pseuds/Hidge
Summary: Christen Press was a creature of habit. She liked her schedule and her planner.Tobin Heath did what she wanted, when she wanted.They weren't exactly a match made in Heaven.
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Series: Fire and Ice [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819459
Comments: 389
Kudos: 1014





	1. Order and Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> Umm... trying out something new again? Haha. I intend to update my other stories again very soon.
> 
> This will be a short piece! 5 or 6 chapters.

_“Humans are odd. They think order and chaos are somehow opposites and try to control what won't be.”  
\- Vision, Avengers: Age of Ultron_

Christen Press was a creature of habit. She liked her schedule and her planner. She liked her time to be perfectly allocated, and well planned, in advance. She liked her schedule, so she did not like interruptions or delays.

And flight delays were the absolute worst.

Some mechanical problem was stopping her from getting on her flight back to LA and she had no idea why the godforsaken airline hadn’t just put them on another plane already. But no, she was just stuck. In the Newark airport of all places. With nothing to do but wait and stew. She dealt in crises, not ineptitude. 

“No, no, no, Andi,” she huffed in frustration. She rubbed at her temple, trying to alleviate some of her stress as she listened to the nervous rambling of her younger associate. “You need to handle this. We needed it done yesterday. Show me that you can handle this,” she snapped before she ended the call and essentially threw her phone into her purse.

“Wow. No please and thank you?”

Christen turned her head to find the voice before finally settling her eyes on its owner. It was a woman, probably around her age, sitting in the row of chairs across from her and three seats to her left. She had earbuds in, but had obviously been eavesdropping.

“Excuse me?” She asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Your phone manners,” the stranger elaborated as she balled up the sandwich wrapper in her hand. “They could use some work.”

Christen was taken aback, and almost too affronted to speak. Who did this woman think she was to talk to her like that? Wearing sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt, with a LA Dodgers snapback sitting on her head no less. Christen sat up a little straighter and smoothed her hands over her skirt.

“Well,” she began evenly. “I will keep that in mind the next time that we speak on the phone.”

The woman chuckled and casually threw the wrapper in her hand towards a nearby trash can, easily sinking the shot. She leaned back with a triumphant grin and stretched her long legs out in front of her. “That really won’t be necessary, princess.”

Christen bristled at the word that had been so nonchalantly tacked on to the end of a response. She _abhorred_ that nickname, and it was certainly not the first time that it had been directed at her as an insult. She found it astounding that this stranger, looking at her with a cocky grin and dressed like a skateboarding, beer chugging frat boy, had listened to her for a forty second phone call and managed to press one of her most infuriating buttons. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and ran a hand over her sleek ponytail – a nervous habit.

She pulled her phone back out of her purse to distract herself. She checked her texts and her emails, and the news headlines, and when she lifted her head to look at one of the airport’s screens, she saw that her flight was no longer delayed. It was cancelled.

“What?” She exclaimed in frustration.

The stranger glanced up from underneath the brim of her hat. “What is it? Are you going to yell at someone again?”

Christen rolled her eyes as she grabbed her purse and got to her feet. “My flight just got cancelled.”

“Ah shit, mine too,” she said after she craned her neck to look at the screen for herself.

Christen barely heard the words that the woman had uttered, as she was already making her way to a service desk. She angrily accepted the food voucher that they offered, the shuttle service to a free hotel room nearby, and a hasty, flustered assurance that she would be on a flight to Los Angeles at 10AM tomorrow morning. She was furious that it would take her more than a dozen more hours to get home, but she was thankful that she carried more than her phone, identification, and some light reading in her carryon. She had an extra outfit, and she had her work.

But the first thing that she did when she arrived at the hotel was head to the bar because she needed a goddamn drink. Something to ease and calm the nerves caused by such a drastic change to her schedule.

“Can I get a scotch, please? Neat,” she told the bartender as she slid onto one of the bar top stools.

“Oh so she does know how to say please.”

Christen’s shoulders tensed and her hands clenched before she promptly hid them in her lap. She took a deep breath before she decided to play nice. “Cancelled flight to LA?”

“Yup,” the woman answered, popping the ‘p’ as she jumped onto the stool next to her.

She watched the stranger smile charmingly at the bartender as she ordered a beer, a beer of all things. ‘Whatever is on tap,’ she added in that annoyingly relaxed drawl.

Christen downed the contents of her glass and motioned towards the bartender for another.

“That bad, huh?”

Christen swallowed, licked her lips, and held her hand to her mouth. “Yes,” she replied simply.

“And you need to get back to LA so badly because…?” She let the question hang in the air and it went unanswered. “Baby? Whiney boyfriend? Needy puppy? TV show that you’ve already recorded that you’re dying to watch and can no longer avoid the spoilers?”

“Work,” Christen finally exhaled as she turned her body to face her irritating companion.

She was allowed the time to look, really look, as the woman sipped her beer. The stranger was actually rather striking. An incredible jawline. A full, plush bottom lip. Warm, earthy, brown eyes. Endlessly long eyelashes. Honey brown hair flowing down her shoulders from underneath her hat. No makeup on her face, just natural and beautiful.

Beautiful, but rude and annoying.

Christen gulped and quickly returned to her drink.

“So what do you do that’s so important anyway?”

She sighed and tilted her head. The judgement in the question was rather apparent, but she brushed it off. “I run a crisis management firm.”

The woman furrowed her brow in thought and pursed her lips before a grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Like that TV show? Like Olivia Pope? You’re Olivia Pope,” she chuckled.

Christen quickly scoffed and retorted with confidence. “Olivia Pope wishes.”

The woman laughed at that, a genuine, throaty laugh before she finished off her beer and ordered another.

“So you talk like that because you’re used to getting what you want?”

“Excuse me?” Christen asked this woman for the second time in one evening.

“You get what you want,” she simply repeated without apology.

“I’m sorry, did I miss the part where we know each other?” She really did not want to allow this stranger to get under her skin, but it was impossible, with her insulting words in that flippant tone coming from that stupidly attractive face. “So please, do not sit there and presuppose that you know anything about me and what I’m _used to_.”

The silence stretched between them until it was broken by another arrogant grin.

“Presuppose?”

“What?” She questioned in frustration.

“You just used ‘presuppose’ in a sentence as a way to prove to me that you’re not spoiled and entitled.”

Christen smoothly placed her purse on the bar top and hastily pulled out enough bills to cover her drinks and leave a healthy tip. She was off the stool and ready to take long strides towards the exit when she felt slender fingers around her wrist. Her eyes slowly moved from the hand holding her in place, up a muscled forearm, and to a pair of brown eyes that were looking at her with sincere curiosity and interest.

“As much as I hate the way you talk, I also really like it,” she whispered. She licked her lips as her hand danced up Christen’s forearm to her elbow. “I’m Tobin, by the way, and I’d really like to buy you another drink.”

Christen knew when she was being hit on, she had enough experience. She knew when someone was trying to pick her up, charm their way in, try to earn themselves a place in her bed. She could confidently say that she had never been hit on in this manner – even when she had dealt with emotionally stunted teenage boys.

And maybe it was that utter anomaly that made her move to sit on the stool that she had just occupied and left.

“I’m Christen,” she spoke slowly, evenly as she primly crossed her legs. The motion drew the attention of her companion – of _Tobin_. “And what do you do, Tobin?”

“I’m an artist,” Tobin responded as she turned her body towards Christen. She was not only interested, she was invested. As cool as she appeared, her body language gave her away. Along with that look in her eye that just screamed want. “I’m from Jersey, but now I live in Venice Beach. I love to travel, and play soccer and surf. My favourite colour is orange. My favourite foods are burgers and fries, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I like to keep it simple.”

Tobin had a deep, husky voice in a slow drawl. She definitely did not have much of a New Jersey accent. She sounded more like a California hippie that spent her time on the beach and uttered dude every second word. As mesmerizing as her voice was, Christen was very confused by the content of their conversation.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I think that’s a good starting point for when you come upstairs with me.”

Christen’s mouth dropped open in shock as she watched Tobin move her index finger around the rim of her pint glass. “Is this how you always pick up women?” She asked in disbelief.

“No,” Tobin grinned, “just you. I’m actually really nice, but I don’t think that’s what you want.”

“There you go again, pretending that you know anything about me.”

Tobin continued to smile, smile and stare, and Christen found it impossible to look away. She couldn’t look away because they were locked in some weird, sexually charged staring contest. She felt like looking away was equal to telling Tobin that she was right. So she stared back and said nothing.

Tobin honoured the silence between them and shifted forward on her stool. She placed her hand on the inside of Christen’s knee and ran her thumb over her kneecap. Christen looked down at the hand warming her skin and swallowed thickly.

“I think,” Tobin began in a whisper, “that you’re so used to getting what you want that that’s not how you want me to talk to you at all. You tell people what to do for a living?”

“I do,” she answered on an exhale.

Tobin grinned again, supposedly that was a ground-breaking response. Her hand skated a little higher up Christen’s leg as she tilted her head. “So we wouldn’t even still be talking if I had said all the right things. That wouldn’t have piqued your interest.”

“I’m not interested,” Christen argued. “I’m annoyed. I find you annoying.”

Tobin chuckled, seemingly to herself, before she took a long drink of her beer. She turned back to Christen to tell her, “No, you don’t.”

Christen huffed and rolled her eyes. “Thank you for the drink, Tobin.” She finished the beverage in front of her and got to her feet once more. “Have a nice flight tomorrow.”

She walked out of the hotel bar and towards the elevators. She was shifting her weight from one foot to the other when she heard running footsteps behind her.

“Oh hey,” Tobin joked. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Christen turned to look at the other woman as the elevator doors slid open. “Stalking is not cute,” she quipped.

Tobin followed her into the elevator with a chuckle. “Just heading up to my room.”

Christen held her purse out in front of her with both hands and all of her limbs felt stiff. She could _feel_ Tobin’s eyes on her and it made her jaw twitch. It felt like the longest elevator ride of her life.

Just before they reached her floor, she turned with a groan. “Why are you staring?”

Tobin was leaning against the opposite wall with her ankles crossed and a dopey grin on her face. “Because you’re stunning.”

She had expected to hear something vaguely rude and irritating, and because of that she couldn’t stop her face from flushing. “Oh,” she murmured.

“I’m thinking about what it would be like to paint you,” Tobin continued.

Christen felt the flush spread down to her chest and she exhaled a sigh of relief when the elevator finally stopped.

“Hey Christen?”

With one foot already out of the elevator, she turned her head. “Yes?”

“I’m in 708,” Tobin grinned, “if you wanna come up later.”

She rushed to her room on the sixth floor without another word and hurriedly opened the door. She placed her purse down on the table next to the television stand and saw that the staff had brought her carryon luggage into her room. She immediately went into the bathroom and splashed her heated face with water. She wanted to blame the flush on the scotch, but she knew that wasn’t the reason.

She gently patted her face with a hand towel before she stared at herself in the mirror.

She knew that she was a passionate, uptight, workaholic. She knew that she had influence and power, and money. What she did for a living was exciting and important, and she had no problem with people knowing that. She did tell people what to do every day. She was a control freak and it worked for her. She didn’t care about people knowing that either. She had no problem with people seeing her for exactly who she was.

So why was she so hung up on this interaction with one stranger? One very frustrating stranger. One very frustrating, very attractive stranger.

Maybe because no one had ever seen through her so quickly before, a voice in her head chimed.

Or maybe it was as simple as the fact that she hadn’t gotten laid in eight months.

“Fuck it,” she muttered to herself.

She took one last look in the mirror, checking the integrity of her remaining makeup, before storming out of the room and heading up to the seventh floor. She knocked on the door of room 708, rather impatiently, and it was quickly answered.

Tobin casually leaned against the doorframe with a smug grin and an arched eyebrow. Christen let her eyes trail over the woman standing in front of her and it quickly became apparent that Tobin had taken some time to change. The hat was no longer sitting on her head and her lower body was covered only by a pair of white boxers.

Holy. The woman had the most beautiful, muscular thighs.

“Hi,” Christen finally forced out.

“Hi there.” Tobin continued to grin as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you need something?” She asked slowly, very slowly.

Christen wasn’t sure what the magic words were in this situation and it made her shuffle her feet with a roll of her eyes. “Do you need something?” She retorted saucily.

Tobin laughed before she quite deliberately licked her lips. “Yeah.” She pushed the door open with her bare foot and took two steps backwards into the room.

Christen stepped into the room, closed the door behind her, and quickly found herself pressed against it. Not kissing, just touching. They were of similar heights, but Christen’s heels made her taller, so that Tobin had to tilt her head back to look at her. She raised a hand and held Christen’s chin between her long fingers.

“God, you are gorgeous,” she whispered.

Christen opened her mouth to respond, but then Tobin’s mouth was descending on hers.

And she was reluctant to admit that it was the best first kiss of her life.

Tobin’s hands anchored her hips to the door as her mouth was thoroughly ravished. Tobin used the perfect combination of lips, teeth, and tongue. She felt the bare skin of Tobin’s thighs against the material of her skirt and the firm press of her torso and breasts against her own. She arched off of the door feverishly and whined. She felt completely wild, and dizzy, and hot all over.

Tobin pulled away slowly and took another step backwards. She had to actively press her hands against the door to stop her knees from buckling and she stared forward as she panted.

Who was this woman and where the hell had she learned to kiss like that?

Despite every thought in her overactive brain telling her otherwise, she wanted Tobin’s body and mouth on her again, as soon as possible. That irritating, exquisite mouth and those big hands – she wanted them everywhere on her naked body.

And maybe the strange woman was some mind reading witch, in addition to being a spellbinding kisser, because she said, “Take off your clothes.”

Tobin turned to walk further into the hotel room and she settled on the bed, with her legs dangling over the edge and her hands placed behind her.

Christen moved to stand in front of the double bed and she removed her blazer with an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“Keep going,” Tobin encouraged.

She chuckled softly as she took off the lacy, black tank top underneath. Then she unzipped her skirt and stepped out of her heels.

“Now take your hair down.”

And once again, Christen did exactly as she was told. She pulled the elastic out of her hair and her curls tumbled down her shoulders.

She had been commended on her looks her entire life. As a young child she had been called cute, she had grown into a pretty girl, and by the time she was moving away for college, boys were desperate for her attention. She knew that she was attractive and her romantic partners commented on it often, but there was something about the way Tobin was looking at her that was different. Openly, unabashedly with hungry brown eyes. What truly made Tobin’s stare so different was that it appeared as if she would be entirely satisfied with just looking.

It was… odd, but it was also really sexy.

She never thought that she would be so turned on by someone’s gaze, but here she was – standing half-naked in front of a stranger in a Newark hotel room feeling almost uncomfortably wet in her thong.

Tobin slowly dragged her tongue along her bottom lip and Christen took that as her cue to step forward and straddle her. Tobin hummed from the back of her throat and placed both of her hands on her hips, her fingers curling around to the top of her backside. 

After several minutes of silence and a noticeable lack of movement, Christen huffed in annoyance. “Are you just going to stare?”

“Maybe,” Tobin chuckled. “I like the way you look.”

It was not the most eloquent compliment that she had ever received, but it made her surge forward for a kiss no less.

She was quickly flipped onto her back in one smooth, athletic movement and then Tobin’s mouth was on her neck. Kissing. Licking. Biting. With a skill and ferocity that she had never experienced. Then that mouth was on her breasts. Teasing her nipples through the thin fabric of her bra. Christen keened and whined, completely unrestrained (a rarity in her life), and she felt only a brief sense of relief when their mouths were joined again. 

“Keep making those sounds,” Tobin husked against her lips. “They sound so good falling from your pretty mouth.”

Christen tossed her head back with a moan as her hands tangled in Tobin’s light brown hair that was surprisingly soft and silky. The woman continued to kiss her mouth, down her neck, and across her collarbone as she slipped between Christen’s spread legs, and pressed into her. There was Christen’s thong and Tobin’s boxers separating skin on skin contact, but the friction was more than enough. It was too much.

“Oh God… that’s… t-that’s,” she stuttered.

She roughly grasped the material of Tobin’s white t-shirt between her fingers as the woman’s hips rolled into hers, hitting her clit over and over again. 

She really didn’t want to come like this, still clothed and incoherent, desperate, and feeling overheated and overstimulated, and _so soon_. She was an adult for Christ’s sake, not some horny teenager. She had too much pride to come from dry humping. But Tobin’s hand was threading through her hair and pulling at the roots with the most delicious pressure, all while her mouth was kissing her anywhere she could reach. Her legs instinctively wrapped around Tobin’s lower back to pull her closer and her hips matched the pace that had been set.

“Oh God… God… God…” she rambled as her orgasm hit her like a freight train.

Her eyes were squeezed shut and she only opened them when she felt faint kisses on her cheeks. She met Tobin’s heated gaze and swallowed thickly. Her stranger’s eyes looked like melting chocolate all of a sudden.

“My name is Tobin, remember?” She said with a devilish grin.

“Shut up,” Christen retorted.

Tobin laughed throatily, and she was about to speak again when she felt Tobin’s strong hands on her hips. “Turn over, gorgeous. Let me fuck you properly.”

With assistance and encouragement, Christen eagerly shifted onto her hands and knees and let Tobin pull her soaked underwear down her legs. 

“Wow. Your ass is fantastic.”

And Christen practically preened at the attention. She was once again left wondering how this woman had figured her out so quickly. It was like she had found a manual that let her in on all of Christen’s dirty little secrets.

Tobin must have also taken the time to whip her t-shirt over her head because when her hair was brushed to one side and a kiss was placed on her shoulder, she felt bare skin against her back.

“You’re so pretty,” Tobin whispered in her ear. Her fingers danced down her spine and her hand smoothed over her backside, and Christen shivered accordingly. “Such a good girl,” she murmured.

Christen could hear the smile in Tobin’s voice as she continued to talk.

“You like that don’t you? You like being on your hands and knees for me.”

“Just… _please_ ,” Christen begged.

Tobin softly kissed her shoulder blade as she ran her fingers through Christen’s wetness before she pushed two fingers inside of her. Christen moaned, really freakin’ loudly, as she dropped to her elbows and pressed her face into the pillows beneath her.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Tobin cooed, “I know that’s what you want. You feel so good.”

Christen panted, forcing air into her lungs, and Tobin’s fingers curled, making her shake and shiver. Fingers dug into the flesh of her hip and she was powerless to do anything but moan, and move her hips back against the fingers inside of her. The angle was perfect and the pressure was perfect, and she wanted to wipe what was surely a smirk off of Tobin’s stupid, perfect face.

“Oh, fuck,” she cried.

“What else do you need?” Tobin asked, her breath warm against Christen’s ear and her hips pressing against Christen’s ass a little bit harder. “Tell me. Tell me what I need to do to make you scream my name.”

“Fuck, Tobin,” she spoke through gritted teeth.

“That’s it, keep saying it,” Tobin egged her on as she curled her fingers once more.

Christen swore again as the hand on her hip moved to find her clit. With just three gentle flicks of her fingers, Tobin pulled another orgasm out of her and she wrapped an arm around Christen’s waist to hold her upright through the aftershocks.

With unanticipated gentleness, Tobin removed her fingers from her core and laid her on the bed. She felt Tobin’s hand stroking from her shoulders to the top of her thighs as she slowly regained some semblance of feeling in her body, and frankly, a sense of time and space.

She had had great sex before, she was sure of that, with both men and women. She knew what great sex felt like. This was not that. This was life ruining sex. That’s what had just happened to her.

When she finally spoke, it was still with disbelief and astonishment. “Holy shit. What was that?”

Tobin was propped up on an elbow beside her, and she looked down at her with a grin. And her hand still trailed down her body. “Basically what I’ve been picturing since I laid eyes on you, princess.”

“Stop calling me that,” she grumbled.

Tobin laughed and leaned in for a kiss as she playfully tapped Christen’s butt. She melted into the warm, lean body and opened her mouth to Tobin’s tongue – powerless to stop her body’s own actions. She leaned into the kiss when Tobin cradled her jaw. 

Life ruining kissing.

Tobin hummed and moaned before she dragged her lips across Christen’s jaw. “I wanna put my mouth on you now.”

“Fuck. I’m gonna blackout.”

And Tobin just chuckled.

“We have time to go again,” Tobin called from the bed, lying with her fingers laced behind her head.

Christen looked over her shoulder as she gathered her clothes from the floor. “I really have to get back to my room and shower, and sleep at least a little bit.”

Tobin glanced at the clock on the bedside table and chuckled. She didn’t even see the point of trying to get to sleep now, especially when she had the sexiest woman that she had ever seen in front of her. The sexiest woman with the haughtiest attitude.

Which turned her on too, honestly.

She had never been so turned on before, especially _after_ sex.

“If you come back to the bed, I’ll do that thing with my tongue that you liked so much,” she whispered.

The tall, olive-skinned, brunette narrowed her eyes as she once again stood at the foot of the bed in just her underwear. “You’re a tease,” she accused.

“I’m not teasing,” she laughed. “I’m making an offer.” When Christen didn’t move, Tobin licked her bottom lip before she spoke again. “Or I can do it when we get back to LA. If you give me your number.”

She hoped that came out as smoothly as she had imagined it in her head.

Christen fully redressed before she grabbed the pen and pad of paper sitting near the television. She scribbled something before she ripped the piece of paper off and handed it to her. Tobin sat up to receive the paper and she deliberately touched Christen’s fingers for an unnecessary amount of time as she did so.

Christen pulled away with a gulp. “I will probably see you at the airport,” she said before she strode out of the hotel room.

When the door shut, Tobin flopped back onto the bed and held the paper above her face. “Christen Press,” she repeated with a grin. “Christen Press.”

Christen Press, who she had just spent hours rolling around in bed with, was a certified, honest to God, babe. Not the kind that Tobin regularly picked up on the beach or in bars. She was the gorgeous, put together, smarter than you and she knows it type of woman. A _woman_. Not a college girl out with friends. Not a girl looking to experiment for a night. Not a girl that fawned over her at one of her art shows. Christen Press was clearly a woman that knew what she wanted.

The kind of woman that already had Tobin craving more. She never wanted more. She never needed more.

But she wanted more green eyes. More curly hair. More smooth skin a shade darker than her own. More of that pretentious, filthy mouth. 

And she wanted that as much as she wanted to keep verbally sparring with her.

Christen Press was a challenge, and she loved challenges.


	2. Push - Pull

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy! To say I'm overwhelmed with the response to this fic is an understatement. Thank you all so much!!

Christen was incredibly grateful to be back in Los Angeles. Back to her bed, her pup, and her bathtub.

She walked into her Manhattan Beach condo in the middle of the afternoon with a new phone number burning a hole in her purse.

_Tobin_ had texted her, smirking, from across the luggage carousel at LAX.

_Text me whenever you want, baby girl_

Christen had rolled her eyes – but she had also flushed.

A part of her was absolutely adamant that the number would just sit in her phone, unused, but the other part of her couldn’t stop thinking about all of the orgasms. So many intense, toe-curling, oxygen depriving, blackout inducing orgasms in such a short period of time. Her lower body tingled just thinking about it.

But she was not about to give in so easily. She did not want to be _needy_ or _clingy_. She had never acted that way in her entire life, not even as a fourteen-year-old with her first boyfriend. She had always been more focused, almost hyper focused, on her own life and her own thing. Work, school, soccer, family – they had always come first. Romantic relationships were always on the back burner for her.

She pulled her bags into her bedroom before she travelled upstairs to find Morena lounging on the living room sofa. The tan dog, that her sister had kindly checked in on after her flight had been cancelled, raised her head in curiosity before she bounded off the furniture and towards her.

“Hey puppy! Hey there, girl!” She gushed as she knelt down and scratched her fur while the dog showered her with kisses. “Oh, you’re so sweet, aren’t you?”

She was a little in love with her dog, to the say least. It was definitely the central relationship in her life. Morena was the only one that regularly slept in her bed, and she was okay with that.

Once the dog settled down, she walked out onto her balcony to soak up the California sun. She left the sliding door open behind her in case Morena wanted to join her, and she quickly decided that with another day lost at the office, she would take advantage of the beautiful day to do some outdoor yoga and meditation.

…After a cup of coffee because she had just been on a plane for over six hours.

Six hours with very little to do but think about last night’s crazy sex.

“Jesus, Christen,” she muttered to herself, “just stop thinking about it. It’s not that hard.”

She stayed off of her phone, and away from temptation, as she went about the rest of her day. She did her yoga, she took Morena for a long walk on the beach, she cooked herself a healthy dinner, and then she watched the sunset with a glass of wine. She went to bed nice and early, and she definitely did not doze off thinking about brown eyes and a cocky grin.

She woke up the next morning early, fully motivated, and more than ready to get to the office. She loved her work and she was eager to get back to it. Even short, small breaks away from her firm, her baby, made her feel antsy. She loved and trusted her coworkers, they were her closest friends, practically family, but that didn’t make it any easier to be away from a project or a client.

She had coffee and eggs for breakfast before she showered, put a little product in her hair so that she could wear it down, and dressed for the day. In a tight blue dress and heels, she drove to her office in Santa Monica and breezed through the door with a smile. 

She sat her purse down on the desk in her office before she moved into their shared conference room, where Crystal was already sitting.

“Pressy!” She called happily. “So glad you’re back!”

“Me too,” she sighed. “So glad.” She sat down across from Crystal and thrummed her nails on top of the oak table. “Okay, catch me up. What did I miss?”

“We landed the big fish.”

Christen’s eyes widened excitedly. “We did?”

Crystal nodded. “We did.”

Christen leaned back in her chair and pumped her fist. She had been in New Jersey when they had been trying to land a very big client and she had known that they were leaning towards a yes, but they had not signed the final commitment. When she had told Andi on the phone that she needed her to handle it, she had been referring to that all important, legal and on paper, final commitment.

“This means we need to pop that bottle of champagne in the fridge.”

“It’s not even eight in the morning,” Crystal laughed.

“We can have mimosas,” Christen announced as she hopped to her feet. She walked towards their kitchenette as she called over her shoulder, “It’s not every day we get a client as big as the U.S. Women’s National Soccer team!”

When she had heard that firms of all kinds had starting pitching the World Cup winning team to help tackle their equal pay fight, she had jumped on board without hesitation. They had dozens of high profile clients – actors, politicians, musicians, athletes, business people, even a few of “less respectable” professions – but this was a client worth celebrating, and one that would enhance their profile as a firm. An entire team of high profile athletes; a group of women that were striving to achieve something that would last beyond their playing careers. And being a soccer fan herself, Christen couldn’t stop herself from feeling that buzz of excitement that she always got whenever anyone wanted to talk anything about soccer.

When Becky, Andi, and Mallory arrived at work, Christen had mimosas ready on the table. They had a toast and ate the pastries that Becky had brought with her before they got back to work like it was any other day.

Christen threw herself into her work for the next few weeks, which wasn’t out of the ordinary for her, but this time she knew that she was using it solely as a distraction.

She stuck to her routine and was very strict about not deviating from it. Yoga. Breakfast. Go to the office. Walk with Morena. Dinner. More work, sometimes she would even return to the office. Bedtime reading. Sleep. Day after day. She allowed herself to switch up her exercise routine, spend some extra time on the beach, watch a little Netflix during dinner. One Saturday night, she went out to a nightclub with Crystal because that girl loved to dance, and they danced _a lot_. She had a few drinks, but she was far from drunk, and she still did not register a single look that came her way. She had ignored the cute bartender who had given her a free drink and the buff blonde guy that had tried to dance with her.

They had barely gotten her heart rate up.

Everything just felt rather dull.

Except at night, when she slipped a hand between her legs and replayed her night in Newark in painfully accurate detail.

It was that longing that made her finally fire off a text. On another Saturday night when she felt a little bored and a little lonely, and definitely horny, she finally responded to the first text that Tobin had sent her so that her number would be in her phone. In her phone and slowly eating away at her.

She just needed one more time, one more night, and then she would have a clear head. It was like a palette cleanser. That’s what she stubbornly told herself.

And she was nothing if not stubborn.

Tobin was patient. She was not patient about a lot of things in her life, but she was patient about this. She was willing to be patient for Christen Press. Christen would text her. She just had to wait it out.

So when she got back to LA from visiting her family, she returned to normal life. She surfed. She worked. She went out with her friends. She partied and she slept in, but she didn’t hook up. She had the opportunity of course, she always did, but no woman that approached her could even hold a candle to the image of the tense goddess seared into her brain.

And maybe it was that image that made her so patient. Some things were worth waiting for. Like pretty green eyes that turned a little grey, and long, thin fingers, and endless legs. 

“Why are you acting so weird?” Ashlyn finally asked after weeks of wondering.

Tobin leaned back on the sofa in the bedroom that she affectionally called her den and squinted. “Whatta ya mean?”

Ashlyn turned to her right and shared a look with Kelley as she passed off the bong that was circulating between the three of them. The shortest woman in the room took a hit and coughed before she spoke. “She means ‘why haven’t you fucked anyone since you came back from Jersey’?”

Tobin laughed loudly and ran both of her hands over her face. “Wow. Do you two keep a journal about me or something?”

“It’s hard not to notice,” Ashlyn retorted. “Your performance has been very subdued as of late.”

Tobin laughed again as she accepted the bong from Kelley. “Maybe I’m trying something different.”

“Celibacy?” Kelley snickered.

“Ha ha, very funny, O’Hara.”

“Have you met someone, Tobs?” Ashlyn asked with a tad more genuine concern in her voice.

“Maybe,” the artist shrugged.

That definitely captured the attention of two of her closest friends.

“Really?!” Kelley probed excitedly.

Tobin just shrugged again. She wasn’t about to give away anything. Under normal circumstances, she would have come back from New Jersey and bragged to Ashlyn and Kelley about the sexy woman from the airport. But nothing about Christen Press fit into Tobin’s normal. She definitely didn’t hang around women like her very often. Uptight, prissy women. 

But she was just so sexy.

She managed to steer the conversation away from her so called mystery girl and towards video games.

She wasn’t sure what time it was exactly, but she knew that it was late when her phone buzzed on the coffee table where her feet were resting. She paused the game, ignoring the groans in the room, and snatched the device off the table. The text message that she had just received was just an address.

An address from Christen Press.

She was quick to jump to her feet and slip her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. “So I gotta go,” she announced.

“Huh?” Kelley responded in confusion. “It’s like two in the morning!”

“Booty call!” Ashlyn hollered.

Tobin ignored her friends once more, and the questions being thrown at her, and spoke with purpose. “You guys can crash, but I’m gone.” 

As she walked down the hallway towards her front door, she answered the text.

_On my way, gorgeous_

Tobin got an Uber to the Manhattan Beach address and followed the instructions provided in the second text to get inside the building. She knocked on the apartment door and was promptly greeted by Christen wearing an oversized red t-shirt with Stanford blazoned across the chest and her hair pulled back into a bun.

“Hi,” she grinned.

“Hi,” Christen parroted. 

Christen took a single step backwards and Tobin quickly closed the space between them and pushed the door closed behind her with her foot. She placed both of her hands on Christen’s hips and pressed her nose against her throat, placing a single, soft kiss there.

And boy did she smell good. All flowery and vanilla, and feminine. Delicious. 

Apparently the feeling was not mutual.

Christen pulled away with a wrinkled nose. “You smell like pot.”

“I was hanging out with some friends,” Tobin responded as she followed Christen up a small staircase and into a living room and kitchen area.

And the space perfectly fit with what she knew about Christen. It was spacious and bright, with high ceilings and big windows, expensive looking furniture that matched, and it was immaculately clean. Pristine. Classy. There were plants that were obviously well looked after. She even had freakin’ throw pillows. It looked like a living room out of an interior design magazine.

“Would you like something to drink?” Christen asked. “I just opened up a bottle of wine.”

Tobin wasn’t a big fan of wine, but she wasn’t about to say no. “Sure.”

“You can make yourself comfortable, just, uh, take off your shoes,” Christen directed as she moved into the kitchen.

Tobin grinned to herself as she stepped out of her slides and sat in the very corner of the L-shaped sofa. Christen returned and handed her a glass of red wine before she primly sat down, at least three feet away from her. She sipped from the glass as her eyes trailed over Christen’s long, smooth legs. She definitely approved of the no pants look. The woman even had nice feet.

“So, what are you doing up so late?” She asked.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

As Christen answered, Tobin watched her awkwardly stretch her neck. Knowing that she was going to need to make the first move, and more than happy to do so, she shifted closer and reached out to place her hand on the back of Christen’s neck. “Stressed?” She questioned in a low, rumbling voice as she started to knead the skin.

“Maybe a little,” Christen admitted quietly.

“Is that why you texted me? Want me to relieve some stress?” She teased.

Christen rolled her eyes as she raised her glass to her lips. “Shut up and drink your wine.”

Tobin chuckled and took a few gulps of said wine. It was definitely one of the nicest wines that she had ever tasted. Still not as good as beer though. “This is really good,” she said more to herself. She took another mouthful before she laid the glass on the coffee table in front of her. “This place is really nice,” she commented as she looked around. She had a few pieces of art on the walls that Tobin would definitely inspect later. “Very adult. And you got a cool view of the beach. Nice.”

Tobin stretched her arms across the back of the sofa and rhythmically tapped her hands against the furniture as she watched Christen slowly place her glass on the coffee table as well and then crawl into her lap.

“Oh yeah, this is way better.”

Christen placed a hand on her face and ran a thumb along her bottom lip. “I need to wipe this stupid smirk off your face,” she whispered.

Tobin laughed and placed her hands on Christen’s thighs. She rubbed the skin until her hands were underneath the large t-shirt. “I think you like my stupid smirk.” Her left hand moved to the inside of Christen’s thigh and she listened to the woman’s breath hitch. “Tell me what you want. Tell me why you texted me.” She shifted her hand to cup Christen’s center and grinned triumphantly when hips bucked against her palm. “No,” she admonished, “tell me.”

“Tobin,” the woman on top of her whined. “I didn’t invite you over to tease.”

Tobin grasped Christen’s jaw with her free hand and pulled her down for a kiss. She sucked Christen’s bottom lip into her mouth and swallowed the moan that followed. Tobin loved to kiss; it was probably her favourite pastime. She could spend hours kissing a wonderful pair of lips, and Christen’s lips were lovely, and she tasted like the wine they had been drinking. She had started to believe that she had exaggerated their sexual chemistry in her head, but as they kissed, she knew that it was just as good as she remembered. She pulled away to kiss down her throat as she pressed the heel of her palm against Christen’s damp underwear.

Christen whimpered and tangled a hand in Tobin’s honey brown hair. “You’re such a fucking tease,” she moaned.

Tobin laughed and wrapped an arm around Christen’s waist to pull her closer. “Do you want me to fuck you right here or do you want me to take you to bed?”

“Fuck me right here and then take me to bed,” she breathed.

“Whatever you want, princess.”

Christen opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, Tobin tossed her onto the other side of the sofa and crawled on top of her. She wasted no time in pushing Christen’s t-shirt up and mouthing at her breasts.

Tobin truly loved all aspects of a woman’s body, and she loved all body types. And Christen’s body was really uniquely beautiful. She had a delicate collarbone and small breasts with a very petite waist, and then she had these shapely hips and muscular, powerful thighs with a very delicious ass. With that face and those eyes, she could probably be a model if she wanted to be.

“Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous,” she spoke into dark skin.

She dragged her mouth over Christen’s smooth belly before she returned to her lips. She kissed her, rough and commanding, as she slipped her hand inside the cotton panties and got her off with her fingers.

Christen was panting, with her eyes closed and her head tilted back. She wiped the sweat off of her brow as Tobin showed attention to her puckered nipple with her teeth. She rubbed Tobin’s scalp with her fingers and squirmed beneath her. “You’re going to make me come again if you keep doing that,” she whined.

Tobin hummed against her breast and slowly swirled her index finger around her clit again. “Then come for me,” she murmured. “Keep being good for me.”

Christen’s hips rose off of the sofa and Tobin thought it was _so hot_ that talking like that turned her on. So freakin’ hot. She was so uptight and serious, and professional, and just so happened to be putty in her hands when told that she was such a good girl.

Christen came again, with her face pressed into a pillow to muffle a cry, and Tobin swiftly picked her up and hooked those long legs around her waist.

“Where’s your bedroom?” She whispered as Christen draped her arms over her shoulders and nuzzled into her neck.

“Downstairs,” she mumbled in satisfaction. “The door on the right.”

Tobin carried the woman to her bedroom and gently laid her on the king sized bed. She was all soft and sweet post-orgasm. It was pretty cute actually. 

She watched Christen slowly crawl under the covers as she stripped off all of her clothes. She joined her in the bed and pulled her in for a long, slow kiss.

When Christen ended the kiss, she licked her bottom lip before she asked a very important question. “How do you want me to do you?” 

Tobin grinned – what a wonderful conundrum.

“I want you to crawl between my legs and rub your body against me,” she finally answered.

Christen arched an eyebrow, perhaps in challenge, as she sat up and made a show of pulling her t-shirt over her head.

Tobin comfortably settled on her back and licked her lips in anticipation. “Get over here, gorgeous.”

Tobin, despite not being a morning person, woke up to the sun shining through the curtains. She felt equally energized and exhausted. But she supposed that good sex would do that to you.

She was the sole occupant of the bed, but that didn’t faze her. She redressed and pulled her hair back into a half-bun, half-ponytail. She used the adjoining bathroom, which was also ridiculously nice, and was prepared to walk out the door when she realized that she was still barefoot. It took her a minute to remember that she had taken off her slides upstairs. She started to jog up the staircase, but stopped in her tracks when she saw that a tan dog was waiting for her on the top of the stairs, suspicious and on alert on all four paws.

The dog started to growl and Tobin quickly tried to soothe the animal. “Oh, it’s okay puppy! Don’t be scared.” The dog tilted her head at the sound of Tobin’s voice, and then she dropped to the floor and rolled over onto her back, showing her belly. She laughed and walked to the top of the stairs so that she could pet the sweet dog. “You’re a big baby, aren’t you?” She cooed.

“That’s Morena, and she is a baby.”

Tobin looked up and saw Christen standing in the kitchen in shorts and a sports bra. All that bronze skin on display made Tobin want to stay for several more hours, at least.

“And we were just about to go for a walk.”

Tobin grabbed her slides and when she turned back around, Christen was standing next to the dog, about a foot away from her.

“So, um, thanks for coming over last night.”

Christen sounded almost embarrassed, and a little shy. Maybe the woman wasn’t as experienced in the art of the booty call as she was. Tobin stepped towards her and, with a hand on her hip, she pressed a close mouthed kiss to her lips. “Any time,” she replied honestly. “And I mean that.” She shifted to nibble on the corner of Christen’s jaw as her hand dropped to cup her behind. “I don’t want to wait weeks to hear from you again,” she whispered. She ended her statement with a playful squeeze of her butt. 

Christen timidly nodded and whispered back, “Okay.”

Christen wasn’t sure if anyone read her body as well as Tobin. In the weeks that followed, she allowed herself to text Tobin as often as thoughts of the woman struck her, which became more and more frequent. Tobin became part of her routine. She breezed into her apartment wearing ripped jeans, old t-shirts, and snapbacks, and she somehow still managed to look like walking sex. There was just something about Tobin that was effortlessly attractive. Some sort of charisma that was undefinable. It was something that Christen had never experienced in any of her partners before. Tobin would kiss her and all of her logical thinking would fly out the window. It was maddening.

She had never imagined that a starving, struggling artist type who spent her time surfing and smoking pot would be, without question, the best sex of her life. Christen still found her to be infuriating, especially her easy going, nothing can bother me attitude and how she had a snappy retort for everything that Christen said. But no one had ever made her come so hard before. With her hands, and her mouth, and her hips, and her unbelievable skills and stamina with a strap-on. They had fucked on every surface of Christen’s apartment, in every position imaginable. She had done things in bed with Tobin that she had never even considered before.

And she had never been so in tune with her body. With her wants and her desires. She felt like she had kept things so closely guarded and so compressed for so long that it was nice to have such a wild, carefree outlet. She didn’t have to overthink or overanalyze anything with Tobin, she just followed her instincts, and Tobin’s deep, sexy voice.

It was liberating. 

“So where are you from?”

Except that Tobin had been asking her a lot of questions lately.

“Here. LA,” she answered as she pushed her tangled mass of curls out of her sweaty face.

“Oh that’s cool. What was it like growing up in LA? Did you–?”

“What are you doing?” Christen interrupted.

She rolled onto her side and saw Tobin lying beside her with furrowed brows. “I just want to know a little more about you. Your life and your job, stuff like that. We don’t talk a whole lot. I don’t even know your favourite colour.”

“My favourite colour is pink,” she answered automatically. “And I didn’t realize you wanted to talk.” She scooted closer to Tobin and ran her hand over the woman’s hard, sculpted abdomen. It was a feature of Tobin’s body that was hard to stay away from. “Like that, I mean.”

“Well,” Tobin chuckled, “I do like the kind of talking that we do.”

Tobin threaded a hand through her hair and tugged her forward for a kiss. She appreciated that Tobin was incredibly easy to distract.

With the woman’s attention firmly back on the physical, Christen slipped beneath her bedsheets and kissed up Tobin’s thigh. Tobin’s hand tangled in her curls again, firm and purposeful, and guided her head upwards.

“Oh, that feels so good, baby girl. Don’t stop.”

Christen moaned at the praise and the vibration made Tobin’s hips roll into her eagerly. She pushed back with a hungry, flat tongue while both of her hands reached upward, scratching at Tobin’s abdomen and caressing her breasts.

“Fuck, Chris. You’re so perfect,” Tobin babbled. “I can’t wait to fuck you into this bed.”

Christen was as focused in bed as she was in every aspect of her life. Meaning that she had quickly figured out what Tobin liked, what she really liked, and what drove her over the edge. She liked to toy with her a little bit, just so she knew how it felt to be so mercilessly teased, but she always gave in quicker than she intended – especially when Tobin tugged on her curls and looked down at her with dark brown eyes. That heated stare went right through her. 

She let Tobin’s hips rock against her face and it wasn’t long before she was coming with a groan.

She took her time peppering kisses up Tobin’s body as the woman came down from her orgasm, until Tobin grew impatient and pulled her up so they were nose to nose. Tobin placed both of her hands on Christen’s face and kissed her enthusiastically. 

“I love tasting myself on your lips,” she murmured. “You have such a sweet little mouth.”

Christen moaned and kissed her back until she had to make herself pull away. “I have to get ready for work,” she explained. As she started to slip off of the bed, Tobin motioned towards her with childlike grabby hands. Christen pushed on her shoulder with a soft laugh. “Stop.”

Tobin chuckled and flopped back onto the bed. “Are you going to put one of those sexy work outfits on?”

Christen rolled her eyes and walked into her bathroom. “You need to go and put your mind to more productive use.” She heard rustling in the room and she knew that Tobin was getting out of the bed and getting dressed. She was still slightly startled when Tobin poked her head around the doorframe with a big smile. “Yeah?”

“I’ll talk to you later?”

Christen nodded mindlessly, not entirely processing the question.

Tobin stepped further into the bathroom. She pressed a kiss to her cheek and murmured, “Have a good day at work, babe,” before she left. 

Christen didn’t put too much thought into Tobin’s words or affection before she got into the shower. However, her guard shot up when she walked into the office and found Mal leaning against the doorframe of her office with a shit eating grin on her face.

“What?” She questioned in confusion.

“Who is it?” Mal retorted excitedly.

“Who is what?” She turned around to look at Becky and Crystal. “What’s going on?”

Crystal sported a devious grin as well, but she tilted her head towards Christen’s office. That at least gave her the clue to look around her youngest co-worker and into her space. She gulped when she saw a display of pink roses on her desk.

Oh fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize about the delays around all my postings. Virtual teaching requires a lot more prep so I've had to throw myself into my work.


	3. Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter would have been posted daaayyyss ago, but my internet went down!
> 
> Anyways, here it is. Angst at the end!

Christen didn’t mention the flowers. Despite the endless teasing she endured at work, she tried to pretend that they didn’t exist – even as they sat on the corner of her desk. She hoped that if she didn’t mention them, then Tobin wouldn’t mention them, and she could keep their tenuous relationship focused on sex. As it should be.

Tobin had become more and more generous and attentive in the bedroom, and she had been ignoring those implications as well. She tried to give as much pleasure back as she could, to keep the scales even.

What they had going worked. Tobin came over and they had off the wall sex. Sometimes she stayed over, sometimes she didn’t. She never asked where Tobin had come from or where she was going. There were no dinners aside from leftovers and the occasional takeout order. No cuddling. No outings. No romance. No strings. That’s what Christen wanted and she had believed that Tobin, with how arrogant and relaxed she was, would be able to give that to her.

But as more time passed, she started to see small changes in Tobin, hints of that nice person that she had alluded to during their conversation at the hotel bar.

And then another arrangement of flowers appeared at her office.

And Tobin showed up at her apartment acting all soft and cuddly.

“Do you want some rice too?” Christen asked as she served the Indian food that she had ordered onto two plates.

“Yes, please,” Tobin murmured in her ear.

Christen concentrated on the food in front of her and not the way Tobin was hugging her around the waist and peppering her neck and face with kisses.

“Did you like your flowers?” The artist whispered suddenly.

Christen tensed and retorted with the first thought that came to her mind. “How did you know where I worked?”

“I Googled you,” she chuckled.

“Oh. Right.” She took a deep breath before she spoke again. She really was not in the mood to be a full on bitch tonight so she approached the topic delicately. “You don’t have to do that, going forward.”

She felt Tobin shrug and then she replied breezily, “I don’t mind. It’s kinda fun.”

At that moment, Christen was willing to accept that as an answer. She could deal with it being a little bit of a game. She could not deal with it being an expression of _something_.

Their conversation slowed as they ate and when they moved to the couch, Morena approached them excitedly – she knew better than to beg around the table. She placed her favourite toy, a squeaky, plush cookie, on Tobin’s lap and the woman took it with a chuckle.

She scratched behind the dog’s ears as she cooed, “Hey there, pretty lady. Wanna play?”

Minutes later, Tobin was rolling around with Morena on the floor, laughing loudly, and the dog looked like she was having the time of her life. Tobin kept hiding the cookie in the front pocket of her jeans and every time it made Morena confused for a solid minute or two before she caught on and started nudging it with her nose. Christen watched the scene from over the screen of her phone. Morena had become incredibly taken with Tobin, and such a display from someone that she genuinely liked and could see herself with long-term would make her smile uncontrollably and melt a little. But all that she could feel looking at Tobin was guilt, and it made her a little nauseous. 

What was wrong with her? Why did she have these vicious, nagging hang-ups about what she wanted in a partner? She could see that there were a lot of nice things about Tobin. She was beautiful. She was fun. She was an animal lover. She was clearly not opposed to gift giving. 

Ultimately, she just checked so few of her boxes.

Tobin eventually collapsed on the floor with a laugh and surrendered the cookie. “Okay, Morena, you win.” 

Morena took her cookie and strolled to her dog bed by the fireplace while Tobin caught her breath.

“All tired out?” Christen inquired.

Tobin placed both of her hands on her abdomen and quirked an eyebrow. “Not for you. I can’t go another round fighting for the cookie though,” she joked. “That’s too exhausting.”

That made Christen chuckle, and she actually slid off of the sofa and crawled towards Tobin splayed out on her rug. “I have fought that battle one too many times,” she empathized. She placed her hands on either side of Tobin’s head and leaned down to kiss her on the mouth. “Let’s go to my bed.”

Tobin kissed her back and placed both of her hands on her hips. “What are you in the mood for tonight?” She asked seductively.

Christen wasn’t sure what she was in the mood for exactly, but she knew that she needed to be in control tonight. She bit down on her bottom lip as she contemplated the various possibilities.

“How do you feel about being blindfolded?” She finally asked.

“I’m down,” Tobin grinned.

“Okay,” she nodded. “Go to my bedroom and take everything off except your underwear.”

Tobin sent her a smirk, but she didn’t object. She took off down the stairs and Christen moved into the kitchen to grab a bottle of scotch and two glasses, one filled with ice and one without. She slowly walked to her room and found Tobin in a much similar position to how she had seen her on that Newark hotel bed. She was nonchalantly leaning back on her hands with her legs dangling over the edge. Except this time she was wearing nothing but tight boxer briefs, perfectly moulded to her body, and Christen was the one fully clothed.

So she took the time to appraise her. Tobin’s body was so toned and lean. There wasn’t an inch of fat on her. She surely had the perfect body. From her calves to her thighs; from her washboard abs to her toned biceps. She licked her lips and stared, taking in the view.

“Are you going to take off your clothes for me too, baby?” Tobin finally spoke in a gruff voice.

She placed the liquor and glasses on the bedside table before she turned to Tobin with a smile. “Nope.” Tobin’s face instantly fell into a pout and she pulled the sleep mask that she sometimes used from the table drawer. She smoothly knelt over Tobin, with a knee on either side of her stomach, and slipped the mask over her eyes. “And put your arms above your head.”

So hot, Tobin thought as she did exactly as instructed. She wasn’t about to protest against something that she knew was probably going to rock her world.

She wrapped her fingers around the top rung of Christen’s headboard and stretched, wiggling her toes at the end. The wait felt endless. She couldn’t feel Christen or hear her, and she really had to fight the urge to rip the sleep mask off and pin the woman to the bed.

“Christen?”

“Tobin?” She playfully shot back.

Tobin groaned and squirmed on the bed. She was growing quite impatient. And then she heard the clinking of ice in a glass. She was wondering if Christen was fixing her a drink when she finally felt a weight on her upper thighs. And then lips were touching hers. She hummed in pleasure and pushed her mouth up against Christen’s as hard as she could. Christen’s fingers traced over her jaw and the veins in her neck before she pulled away.

“Are you gonna take your clothes off now?” She panted. 

“Where are your manners?” Christen purred.

“Fuck,” she chuckled, “now you’re concerned about please and thank you?”

Christen moved off of her and she had to bite down on her bottom lip to stifle a growl. Then she felt hands on her ankles. Up her shins and around her calves. And then higher. She wanted to make a joke that Christen felt up her thighs whenever she got a chance, but she was way too turned on. And she wanted Christen to keep touching her like that.

But then the warmth of Christen’s hands disappeared again.

Tobin was definitely the kind of person that was down for anything in bed, and she had tried something like this before, with one of her exes. She had been prepared for the impatience, the heightened sensations, and the unanticipated changes of pace. She was an artist, a visual person, she knew what would happen when she didn’t have that sense to lean on – she would focus on touch. But this… 

She was starting to think that Christen could do anything to her and she would think that it was the best thing ever. She was just that hot.

She gasped when Christen kissed her again. “Cold,” she forced out.

“Cold?” Christen repeated with a little bit of a laugh.

Tobin could only nod before her body almost jumped off of the bed when something cold trailed down the center of her chest. 

The ice cubes. The ice cubes from the glass. Christen was touching her bare skin with the ice cubes from the glass. She shivered as the ice traced over her stomach and along her sides. Christen followed the same path with her mouth, kissing and licking the same spots where the ice had melted to leave behind water droplets, and making her shudder for completely different reasons. She moaned when Christen slowly swirled the ice cube around her breasts and then sucked the puckered nipples into her mouth.

The competing sensations of her suddenly cold skin and Christen’s warm mouth were almost excruciating, like the perfect balance of light in a painting. She was sure that there was a perfectly understandable physiological reason to explain why she was already on the verge of an orgasm, but she really could not use that much brain power when Christen was playing with her body’s responses like this.

Christen kissed her again, and this time she registered the press of a naked chest against her own. She ran hot; she had always been told that her body was like a space heater, but now it was Christen’s skin that felt scorching to the touch. She groaned in response and tugged on the woman’s bottom lip with her teeth. The kiss had just started to get a little dirty when Christen pulled away once more.

“Fuck,” she muttered. “Can I see now?”

“Not yet,” Christen whispered.

Christen kissed down her torso before she placed a hand between Tobin’s legs. Tobin bucked her hips and tried to ask for more, mumbling something indecipherable, and Christen gave it to her. The dark brunette held a hand against the fabric of her boxers and slowly pressed and rubbed the length of their bodies together. Tobin had given away a time or two how much she loved a slow bump and grind, and now Christen was using it against her in a delicious way.

“You’re so wet,” Christen spoke against her mouth. “I can feel you though your underwear.”

“Yes. Are you wet?” Tobin questioned. “You’re always wet for me. Aren’t you, pretty girl?” 

Christen made a whining sound that went straight to Tobin’s core and she pushed against her willing body just a tad harder.

“Yeah, just like that,” she exhaled hotly. “That’s so good. I can’t wait to—”

Tobin’s words seemed to accelerate Christen’s actions and she abruptly stopped talking when her boxer briefs were hastily pushed down to her knees.

Christen wasn’t playing with her anymore.

Tobin finally let go of the rung that she had held so steadfastly and whipped the sleep mask over her head, with no concern for where it landed. Christen’s gorgeous head of dark curls was now between her legs and her hot mouth was focused on her clit. She tangled her fingers in thick hair, tugging in just the way she knew Christen liked, before her hips stuttered once, twice, three times, and she nose-dived off the edge of her orgasm. 

She pushed her long hair out of her face as she tried to even out her breaths. She blinked, several times, and finally took a long look at Christen kneeling at the foot of the bed, wearing only red lace panties. She looked flushed, her caramel skin glistening with sweat; and dishevelled, her lips swollen from kissing; and confident.

That was a visual that she could certainly get used to.

Christen looked back at her with a rather satisfied smile and moved to lie beside her on the bed. Tobin didn’t waste any time; she placed both of her hands on Christen’s hips, maneuvered her onto her side, and spooned her from behind. She kissed behind her ear as she murmured, “That was so hot.”

Christen laughed heartily.

“My turn now,” Tobin continued. “I’m going to slip my hand into your sexy panties, which are coming home with me by the way, and I’m going to make you scream my name while I grind against your perfect ass.”

“Yes,” Christen sighed as she closed her eyes, “ _please_.”

Tobin fulfilled her promise with gusto and was still stroking Christen through the aftershocks when she began a conversation that had been on her mind for the last several days.

“I went to a shop a couple days ago and got a bigger dildo, since you were practically begging for it last time.” There was an obvious drop in her voice at the end of her statement and she felt Christen shiver at the implication. “So I was thinking that you could come over and stay for the weekend. We could have a lot of fun.”

Christen wrapped her long fingers around Tobin’s wrist and arched into the hand still inside her underwear. “I like my place,” she gasped.

She chuckled, “I know, princess. You can bring Morena too. I got a present for her actually. I’ll clean up for you two,” she joked. “Promise.”

“But I—” Christen moaned with her bottom lip between her teeth. “Oh God, I think I’m gonna come again.”

She placed a kiss on the back of her neck before she voiced a brilliant idea. She knew how to draw multiple orgasms out of her girl. “Roll onto your stomach and fuck my hand, baby.”

Tobin helped her move into the new position and knelt above her. Christen moved against her hand, making incredibly sexy moaning noises, bordering on purring at times, as Tobin coaxed her fingers into a gentle come hither motion and massaged Christen’s butt cheeks with her right hand.

“Hmm,” Tobin hummed, “I knew you would like that. Feels good, doesn’t it, baby? God, you are just so beautiful.”

Christen came with a squeal and Tobin could feel every muscle in the woman’s body tremble.

Yeah, they were going to have an awesome weekend. Tobin’s head was already spinning with lots of great ideas. 

To say that Christen was sceptical about going to Tobin’s place would be a gigantic understatement. In her opinion, she should not be held to anything that she had agreed to during an orgasm.

Tobin always came to her condo for a reason. She had moved on from the days when she would spend the night with someone in a twin bed, in a dorm, in a tiny apartment, or worse, a studio with roommates. She had worked herself up so much with terrible imagery of where a burgeoning artist in LA could even live that by the time that she got in her car to drive to Venice on Friday evening, she had prepared herself for something similar to that one episode of _Sex and the City_ where Carrie hooks up with the twenty-something guy who uses toilet paper for coffee filters.

She didn’t want to be a snob, but she did have standards. She had been raised in Palos Verdes for God’s sake.

She found a parking spot on the street near Tobin’s place and anxiously turned her head towards Morena. “Are you ready for this, girl?” Morena just sat in the passenger seat and panted happily. She wouldn’t care if Tobin lived in a shack as long as they could play. “Okay, let’s do this.”

She hopped out of her car, grabbed the small backpack that she had packed for the weekend, and clipped Morena to her leash. She slowly walked towards the address that Tobin had texted her and stopped in her tracks. She glanced at the buildings around her and furrowed her brow. She double checked the address in her text messages with Tobin and her mouth fell open in shock. The building that she was standing in front of was a complex full of penthouse style homes right on the beach. Literally. The sand was the front yard.

This is where Tobin lived?!?!

She tentatively made her way to apartment number five and knocked on the door. Tobin quickly answered with a wide grin.

“Oh look, it’s my favourite girl.” Tobin promptly bent over to pet Morena and she looked up at her with a wink. “Any trouble finding the place?”

Christen just shook her head.

“Well come on in!”

She stepped into the home and became absolutely speechless. The front door opened to a small entryway, then there was a doorway that led to the kitchen. The kitchen with a high-top bar, miles of counter space, and top of the line stainless steel appliances. Something was cooking and it smelled fantastic. She turned to her left and the kitchen opened to a living room with a spiral staircase connected to a second level. The living room had floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed a breathtaking view of the ocean. Just miles and miles of ocean. The furniture was mismatched, but there was an abundance of seating and it was offset by a stone fireplace and hardwood floors. Beyond the furniture, but before the windows, was a specialty poker table in the corner and a ping pong table.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“I, um, uh,” Christen stumbled. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

Tobin took her backpack off her shoulder and Morena’s leash before she directed her to a half bath just outside of the kitchen. Christen closed the door behind her and leaned against the wood to take a deep breath. She hurriedly fished her phone out of her pocket and Googled Tobin Heath – something that she had not done; felt that she had not needed to do.

She immediately found Tobin’s professional website, her active social media presence, gallery and magazine reviews, and lots of other information. She had built up this image in her head that based on Tobin’s demeanour, the way that she talked, and the way that she dressed, that she was someone that called themselves an artist while working some minimum wage job to keep them afloat. Someone that could be talented, but would never be sustainably successful in such a fickle field of work. She had been going off of the stereotype that “artist” meant unemployed surfer chick.

She had been so, so, _so_ wrong. Apparently Tobin was beyond successful. She was well known in the artistic community of LA, and across the country. One of her paintings was hanging in George and Amal’s house.

She splashed her face with water before she left and returned to the kitchen. Morena had already made herself comfortable on the sofa with a toy that looked like a plush squirrel.

“I got her this toy, it’s like a tree trunk and you can put the squirrels inside of it and she can shake them out,” Tobin explained excitedly.

Christen just nodded as she ran a hand through her hair. “Do you mind her on your furniture? I can tell her ‘no’.”

The _artist_ waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s not a big deal at all. Don’t worry about it.” Tobin stepped up to her and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Something to drink now?”

Christen nodded again and slowly made her way to sit at the bar.

“Wine? Scotch? Whiskey? Beer? Something else?”

“Do you have tequila?”

“Yeah,” Tobin chuckled. She pulled a bottle out of a cabinet and found two shot glasses to poor the liquor into. She spoke again as she carefully placed the shot in front of Christen. “I do have a wine to go with dinner though.”

Of course Tobin had prepared some sort of fancy dinner for her. She had been texting her questions about food all week. Are you allergic to anything? Anything you don’t like to eat? Are you a vegetarian? How do you like your steak done? And so on.

Christen had so many thoughts and questions racing through her mind that she needed a little liquor to dull her senses. She downed the shot easily and winced afterwards. “Just one more?” She asked.

Tobin grinned and obliged.

They ate dinner at the bar as well – Christen had noticed a distinct absence of a kitchen or dining room table of any kind. Tobin had cooked steak, steamed vegetables, and garlic mashed potatoes that she had said were her mother’s secret recipe. She had paired it with a California Zinfandel, and it was delicious.

She had even prepared a small steak for Morena.

Christen had gotten this woman so wrong and she had no idea how she felt about it.

Tobin placed the dirty dishes in the sink and, when she turned around, Christen surprised her with a hungry kiss.

Tobin caught on quickly and tangled her hands in Christen’s straightened hair. “This is my thank you, isn’t it?” She joked. “For cooking you and Morena dinner?”

Christen responded by grasping Tobin’s waist and kissing her harder. “Dinner was great,” she whispered. “You never told me you could cook.”

“You never asked.” They kissed again before Tobin asked, “Do you want the tour?”

She trailed her hand up Tobin’s chest and onto her shoulder. “Right now, I just want to see your bedroom.”

Tobin looked confused even though her implication was pretty clear. She rubbed Christen’s upper arms with both of her hands and smiled, though this one didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Let’s watch a movie first, yeah?” 

Tobin led her down the hall to a large room with sofas, a pool table, and a large, flat screen TV. Bookcases filled with books, DVDs, games, records, and the scattered framed photograph lined the wall opposite the windows. Her eyes immediately fell onto the bong and various supplies needed to roll joints that sat on the coffee table, but she tried to ignore that. Marijuana was legal in California so she tried not to be too judgemental about it, even if it wasn’t her cup of tea. She hadn’t even partaken in college.

“Wow,” she whispered as she walked around the room. “You have so many books, and movies, and records.”

“This is like my fun room,” Tobin chuckled as she pushed her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. “When I take breaks from work, I come in here and play games, read a book, listen to some music, whatever. Just hard chill.” She stepped closer to one of the bookcases and looked over her shoulder. “Do you wanna hear something? Any requests?” 

Christen shook her head with a sigh. “Tobin,” she finally began with a gulp. “Dinner was great, really, and your place is amazing, but I just need to be clear, we’re not girlfriends.”

“Okay.” Tobin chuckled as she turned around to face her. She appeared as cool as ever, but there was a hint of awkwardness to her laugh.

“So you don’t need to cook me dinner, or send me flowers, or buy my dog presents.”

“I know all that,” the artist mumbled as she scratched the back of her neck. “I just wanna, well I, uh, I guess I just wanted to show you that I like you and appreciate you.”

“I don’t need you to,” she retorted quickly. And Tobin just looked confused, like she had never met a girl that didn’t care whether or not the person she was having sex with liked her, and she probably hadn’t. Christen could fully understand every woman that Tobin had ever slept with falling for her; women probably threw themselves at her even before the fantastic sex. Christen recognized that what she was saying wasn’t exactly “normal”. If the situation were different, Christen would love Tobin’s attention and affection. It was sweet. Generous. Genuine. The woman was even doting on her dog! But she didn’t want any of those things from Tobin. She wanted simple, unattached sex. She took a deep breath before she spoke again. “I’m really not looking for anything that resembles a relationship.”

Tobin looked thoughtful for several minutes before she responded quietly. “You’re not looking for a relationship or you’re not looking for a relationship with me?”

Christen took too long to reply and Tobin had her answer.

“I see.”

She truly didn’t want to hurt Tobin’s feelings, it was why she hadn’t wanted to have this conversation in the first place. “Tobin,” she began.

“Wait,” Tobin interrupted as she rubbed her forehead. “You think I’m not good enough for you? That’s rich,” she scoffed.

Christen defensively crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I thought you were just guarded, closed off, but you’re not, the idea of someone caring about you and you caring about them in return is just a foreign concept to you. You’re cold.”

Now it was Christen’s turn to scoff. “Okay, because if I haven’t fallen head over heels for you already then I must be _so damaged_ , right?” She rolled her eyes and added, “I don’t need you to fix me, Tobin. I’m fine, I assure you. I like my life the way it is.”

“Do you?” The artist challenged. 

“I do,” she nodded adamantly.

“You like spending your time fixing other people’s problems and no time on your own?”

That made her blood boil. Tobin definitely did not know her well enough to be talking about her “problems”. She really knew how to push all of her fucking buttons.

They stood far enough apart, not exchanging anything more than a shallow breath and the occasional stolen glance.

“I should go,” she finally exhaled.

Tobin nodded in agreement and mumbled, “Yeah, you probably should.”

Christen was surprised that Tobin didn’t ask her to stay, and an annoying thought occurred to her that maybe she was a little hurt by it as well. She fetched Morena and her backpack from the living room and left without calling out a goodbye. The way that she left felt final, and it made her stomach churn.


	4. Intimacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some angst ahead! Stick it out, remember they're adults.

From underneath her thickest, coziest blankets, Tobin heard the distinct sound of her front door opening and closing. She knew that she wasn’t being robbed or murdered because her door had been locked. Whoever entered had used a key and they had brought a dog with them judging by the excited scrambling that she heard on her hardwood floor – meaning that it could only be one of two people.

And in her current state, she really hoped that it was one more than the other.

She felt a large weight jump on her bed and then she heard a dog panting above her. She pushed the blankets down past her eyes and Logan promptly started licking her exposed face. She laughed, despite her mood, and slowly sat up, allowing the large, friendly Cane Corso Mastiff to lick her entire face and try to crawl into her lap, like she wasn’t a hundred pounds. She looked towards the foot of her bed and smiled weakly at Ali Krieger, Ash’s long-time girlfriend.

“Ash said that you being a hermit recently probably has something to do with a girl, so I volunteered to come over,” the brunette explained calmly. “And I brought Logan, and ice cream.”

Tobin offered another smile and quietly muttered, “Thank you.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Tobin turned her attention back to the dog and scratched behind her ears.

“I’ll go get some spoons from the kitchen,” Ali stated before she left the room.

Tobin laid back down in her bed and Logan curled up beside her, with her head on Tobin’s abdomen. Ali returned with a pint of ice cream and two spoons, and she took a seat atop the covers so that Logan was in between them.

Tobin stayed quiet as Ali peeled off the cover and they took turns foraging in Chocolate Fudge Brownie. She had spent days thinking about her last interaction with Christen, their fight. She wasn’t sure what else there was to consider or process, or talk about really, even if she refused to talk about it with Kelley and Ashlyn. She had been so sure, absolutely confident, that Christen was just like her. Someone who didn’t let their walls down for just anyone; someone who guarded their heart carefully. Someone that just needed the safety and the permission to let someone in. She thought that she had given Christen that. She thought that they had a connection. She thought that they had something that could turn into something really special.

She had been wrong.

Christen didn’t want anything from her other than sex. Hell, after everything, she wasn’t even sure if Christen _liked_ her.

She had never read a woman so wrong before.

“Feelings suck,” she finally muttered through a mouthful of ice cream.

Ali laughed lightly. “Yeah, I agree. All the hoops that Ash put me through…” She stopped to whistle and laugh again. “It was exhausting, especially in the beginning.”

“She didn’t want to be tied down?” Tobin asked quietly.

“Exactly,” Ali laughed, “and she just needed a little time and a little space.”

Tobin just nodded. Ashlyn had been smart to send Ali. Ashlyn was one of her best friends in the entire world. She was kind, honest, authentic, sincere, principled, and a host of other unbelievable qualities. But Ali was more sensitive, more even tempered, Ashlyn probably would have just said, “Fuck her” and pulled Tobin out of bed to drag her to a bar. Ali, on the other hand, a licensed therapist, would be patient and understanding, and willing to listen for hours.

“I’m not sure if time and space is what she needs,” Tobin sighed.

“Why do you say that?”

The artist shrugged and nibbled on her bottom lip. “Just the way she looked at me.”

Ali looked at her compassionately before she spoke with an air of forcefulness in her voice. “You’re a catch, you know that right?”

Tobin laughed and shifted on the bed, causing Logan to shift as well. The dog whimpered in annoyance so she began to scratch her head.

“I’m serious, Tobs. You’re talented and successful. You’re kind-hearted and genuine, unapologetically yourself. You’re also really hot,” she chuckled, “and you’re going to give someone a really great life one day.”

Tobin smiled, her face directed towards her lap. “Yeah, I guess,” she agreed half-heartedly.

Resignation coloured Ali’s features but she wasn’t ready to give up just yet. “So, do you have any terrible rom coms that we can watch?”

Christen took a long sip from her cup of coffee and slowly reread the last paragraph of the document in front of her. She leaned back in her chair and slowly ran both of her hands through her hair. This was an important file and she couldn’t afford to be distracted. She needed to know these legal documents from U.S. Soccer like the back of her hand.

So she took another drink of her coffee.

“I’m heading out,” a voice called from her doorway.

Christen looked up to see Becky leaning against her doorframe. She quickly looked around her office, towards her windows and the darkened sky, and then at the clock on her desk – she hadn’t even realized that it had gotten so late.

“And you should too,” Becky added.

She looked back down as she flipped through a few sheets of paper. “I’m fine, I just wanna finish this up.”

The older lawyer, instead of walking away and calling out goodnight, took a few steps into her office. “You’ve been burning the candle at both ends for almost two weeks now. I’m convinced that you only go home to change your clothes.”

Becky wasn’t far off the mark. She had been spending a lot of time here lately. She had discovered that the sofa in her office was actually pretty comfortable. She only went home long enough to take Morena for a morning walk, shower, and change her clothes. Things just felt a little off when she was in her apartment alone. She didn’t have the same peace and comfort. When she was home, she felt lonely, and Morena moped around the living room, pawing at her cookie and glaring at Christen like she knew that she had sent Tobin away.

Sitting in her apartment, alone, made her want to text Tobin, but her pride wouldn’t allow her. 

“I’m fine,” she repeated.

And her insistent response made Becky sit down in the big arm chair closest to her desk. “What’s going on?” She questioned softly.

“What do you mean?”

Becky stared at her knowingly and tilted her head. “Not too long ago, Crystal and I were in the kitchen talking about how happy you looked. Crystal said she thought you were gettin’ some lovin’, her phrasing not mine,” she added with a chuckle.

“So you’re talking about me behind my back?”

“Defensive,” Becky observed. “A sure sign that something’s wrong.”

Christen rolled her eyes and closed the file in front of her with flourish. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just going through… a thing,” she finally admitted.

“A thing?”

The brunette nodded. “Yes, I was seeing someone, it didn’t work out. It’s not a big deal.”

She was sure she sounded confident, but Becky still looked sceptical. “That’s all?” She asked, and it was clear that she was offering another opportunity for Christen to get some things off her chest.

“That’s all,” Christen confirmed after a moment of hesitation. She forced a smile before she added, “Nothing to worry about.”

The next time someone dropped by Tobin’s house, she allowed Kelley to pull her out of her bed and push her into the shower. She was actually ready to do some of the things Kelley was yelling about. Dancing. Flirting. Tequila shots. She was done wallowing.

She dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, always choosing comfort over anything, and followed Kelley to one of their favourite neighborhood bars. Ashlyn was already there when they walked through the door and Tobin greeted her with a firm hug.

“Thanks for sending Ali,” she whispered.

“Anytime, Tobs. Anytime.”

They followed Kelley’s master plan of beers and tequila shots, and it wasn’t long before Tobin attracted some female attention. A group of college girls to be precise. One in particular was named Abby. She had long blonde hair and long legs. She was a student at UCLA, and she was quite flirtatious. She laughed at every second thing that Tobin said and she ran her hand down Tobin’s forearm, and her intentions were quite clear. In fact, Tobin hadn’t been hit on so blatantly in some time.

Kelley was having a field day with the display, cackling into her beer glass every so often.

“You are so hot,” the girl chuckled as she wrapped her hand around Tobin’s elbow.

“Thank you,” Tobin smiled as she tucked the girl’s hair behind her ear. “You’re pretty beautiful yourself. Can I buy you a drink?”

She nodded eagerly and told Tobin her drink order – something very girly and very sweet.

Tobin pushed her way to the bar, and as she waited for her drinks, she absentmindedly looked at her phone. Out of habit, she opened her conversation with Christen and frowned. Nothing. Nothing since before Christen had come over for dinner. The last message was Tobin’s instructions to get into her place. Radio silence ever since. Tobin wanted to text her, but she honestly didn’t know what to say. Did she apologize? Did she pretend they hadn’t argued? Could she just fire off a flirty comment or announce that she was coming over? She didn’t want to seem pathetic, and she didn’t believe that she had anything to apologize for. She wasn’t about to apologize to Christen for caring about her. After all, Christen had hurt her, whether the woman realized it or not.

With a sigh, she pushed her phone back into her pocket and then lifted her head to smile at the bartender. 

She continued to flirt with the cute college girl, some of her finest work, and Abby was very eager to be taken home.

“Do you live around here?” She whispered in Tobin’s ear.

Tobin nodded and smiled charmingly. “Yeah, not far at all actually.”

“Good,” the girl hummed as she ran her hand up Tobin’s forearm yet again. “Can my friend come too?” She tilted her head towards her friend, Sasha, who was sitting next to Ashlyn, talking about tattoos.

Tobin turned her head to look at the other girl as she suppressed a dumbfounded expression. Sasha, a brunette with a contagious laugh, had been eyeing her throughout the night, but she hadn’t thought much of it. Abby’s group of friends had been hanging out with them all night, but Abby had been the one to take charge.

“Yeah, sure,” Tobin finally answered.

After all, maybe the girl just needed a couch to crash on. Tobin had been there before.

She led the two Poli Sci majors back to her place and they ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the space, like most people did. She hadn’t cleaned up like she had for Christen, so there were some things strung about her living room and she hadn’t tidied her art studio.

Neither girl seemed to care.

Abby started to kiss her neck and her eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise when she felt a separate pair of hands run up her back.

Jon Turner was perfect on paper. A Senator’s son. Ivy League educated. Successful defence attorney. Tall, handsome, charming. He spoke three languages and he ran marathons. He had taken Christen to a series of really nice dinners, after pursuing her for months, and he had walked her to her door each time with nothing more than a goodnight kiss. They were having another nice dinner at an expensive steakhouse in West Beverly Hills, and Christen was trying to pretend that she wasn’t utterly bored.

“There’s no such thing as an expert witness,” she argued as she picked at her dessert. “You can pay a so called expert to say whatever you want. Most people who sit on juries don’t know that.”

“You must do one hell of a cross,” Jon chuckled.

“You’ve seen me in the courtroom,” she pointed out.

“I have,” he confirmed, “it’s like watching an artist.”

Christen rolled her eyes, but offered him a smile. He showered her in flattery regularly, and he did so with a gentle smile and warm, brown eyes. He really did think that she was kind of incredible at what she did. He wasn’t smooth talking her.

And he checked all of her boxes.

She should be ready to drop her panties. But all that she felt was a lukewarm affection, like they could hang out and talk law and politics from time to time, but she wasn’t sure about anything else.

Jon courteously paid the dinner bill and drove her home. She arrived at her door and turned her head with a hand on the doorknob.

“Do you want to come in?”

Jon nodded and followed her inside with his hands on her hips.

Once the door was closed, she spun around and tentatively pressed her mouth against his. He responded immediately and tangled a hand in her hair so that he could deepen the kiss.

It was good. He was a good kisser.

He pushed her up against the wall in her entryway and his hands skimmed her waist, gripped her hips, and cupped her backside.

And it was nice. His hands felt nice.

Everything about their night was nice, even when he stripped her naked and pressed kisses down her body. Everything was just… nice. Good, satisfying, he managed to give her an orgasm, but nothing about it had her clawing at the sheets or begging for more.

When she went into work the next morning, she was prepared to answer a few questions, especially from Crystal and Mallory.

“So?” Her youngest partner grinned over her morning coffee. “You went out with Jon again last night?”

Crystal’s ears had obviously picked up on the question as she rushed into the conference room from the kitchen. “Ooh yes,” she began excitedly. “Tell us about it.”

“It was nice,” Christen responded with a shrug.

Crystal frowned and the excitement in Mal’s eyes dulled.

“Just nice?” Crystal followed up.

Christen shrugged again. “Yeah, I mean, it was… he was… everything was perfectly satisfactory.”

“Satisfactory?” Mal repeated with a wrinkled nose. “Are you giving him a work evaluation?”

Christen chuckled softly, “It’s not an insult.”

“But I don’t think _nice_ had you practically strutting around this office a couple months ago,” Crystal stated boldly.

“So?” Christen challenged.

“So what made you drop best sex you’ve ever had?” Crystal questioned.

“First of all, I never said that. Second of all, you don’t date best sex you’ve ever had. Best sex you’ve ever had ends up broke or in prison.”

The youngest woman laughed at her joke while Crystal looked at her pensively. She took a moment to gather her thoughts before she hummed and said, “Best sex I’ve ever had is the love of my life.”

Christen pursed her lips and nodded before she returned to her morning coffee. Her throat suddenly felt very dry. She had been suppressing the feeling for weeks, but it was as if Crystal had given her the permission to miss Tobin. She missed the woman that was cool and aloof, yet playful and warm. She missed Tobin’s relaxing presence in her apartment and her teasing tone. She missed her big, soft hands and the hot whispers in her ear.

She missed the girl that was all wrong for her on paper.

Tobin was over wallowing, and she was over the tequila shots and binge drinking, and the hookups, threesomes in particular. She had actually gotten back to a normal routine of beach, work, and hanging out. She had eased back into her life, so she was surprised to hear unexpected knocking on her apartment door. She glanced at her watch as she jumped off the couch. It was after ten at night and she didn’t have any planned late night visitors. She hadn’t invited anyone over and Kelley or Ashlyn hadn’t texted her, and she hoped that Ali wasn’t coming around to check on her. She was doing just fine; she didn’t need house calls.

She opened her door slowly and was absolutely stunned by her guest.

“Christen?”

“I miss you.”

Tobin crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the frame with what she hoped was an unimpressed expression. “Why are you here?”

“Can you just hear me out for a minute?”

Tobin waited a minute before she nodded.

“I’m bossy, and I’m high maintenance. I can be a control freak sometimes; I’m highly competitive and I don’t like to lose. I hate being wrong and I have to have the last word. Sometimes I like arguing more than I like sex.”

Tobin couldn’t stop herself from laughing at that.

“I know that I can be a bitch and I’m sorry,” Christen finished softly.

The artist chewed on her bottom lip before she muttered, “Thank you for apologizing. I’m sorry too, and I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to what you wanted.”

“Don’t apologize, Tobin, you did nothing wrong,” Christen jumped in. “You were right, you are too good for me.”

“I don’t actually believe that.”

“Well you are,” Christen reinforced with a sad smile. “I could have been a lot nicer to you.”

Tobin stood, with her arms still crossed. She wasn’t sure what else to say and her eyes drifted to the bags that Christen was holding, noticing them for the first time. “What do you have there?”

Christen lifted the bags up with a bit of a happier smile. “In-N-Out and that beer you like.”

“But you don’t like beer?” Tobin smirked.

“I brought scotch for myself, but I might be persuaded to have a beer or two.”

Tobin chewed on her bottom lip again. An apology and a peace offering. She was certainly caught off guard by that, and by Christen’s willingness to list off all of her faults.

The longer the silence stretched on, the more Christen seemed to shift from foot to foot anxiously.

“I miss you too,” she finally spoke.

She heard Christen’s breath hitch before she asked, “So can I come in?”

“Let me be clear this time,” Tobin began slowly. “If you come in, you’re my girlfriend. I’m going to hold your hand and buy you presents, and ask for cuddling sessions.”

Christen set the bags she was holding down on the floor before she took a small step forward and gently touched Tobin’s cheek. “We might be all wrong for each other,” she whispered, “but I want to find out.”

Tobin fought a smile that was trying its best to conquer her entire face. “I wanna find out too,” she mumbled happily.

Tobin essentially pulled Christen through the door and then they settled on one of the couches in the den to eat the burgers and fries Christen had brought and to drink Tobin’s favourite beer. Tobin slung her arm around Christen’s shoulders as she turned on a movie and Christen settled into the crook of her arm like she was made to fit there.

“I guess this beer isn’t awful,” Christen said as she pulled the bottle away from her mouth.

Tobin chuckled and ran her fingers down Christen’s upper arm. “Miss Press drinking a beer, this is quite a moment.”

She playfully slapped Tobin’s stomach. “Shut up.”

Tobin laughed and pressed a kiss to the top of Christen’s head. “You know I love to tease you, princess,” she murmured.

Christen rolled her eyes, but she also made herself more comfortable against Tobin’s warm, lean frame. “You’re a nuisance,” she mumbled.

Tobin chuckled and Christen’s repositioning allowed her to wrap her arm around her waist. “Hey, how’s Morena?” She asked suddenly.

Christen laughed softly. “I think she misses you. She’s been mopey lately.”

“Well you can bring her over tomorrow. She can hang out on the rooftop deck. She’ll love that.”

The lawyer sat up straight and looked at Tobin in disbelief. “The rooftop deck?”

Tobin just shrugged. “You didn’t want the tour.”

“Can I have the tour now?”

Tobin nodded and hopped to her feet. She placed the beer bottle in her hand on the coffee table and offered it to Christen. She led her through the kitchen and to the spiral staircase that connected the two floors. She walked into the loft that she had converted into her studio with a repurposed wine rack to hold her paints and a homemade wall-mounted storage rack for her canvases, and awkwardly scratched the back of her neck. It’s not like she brought a lot of people up here and she suddenly felt self-conscious about her surroundings. She had a drawing table and an old wooden desk for some extra storage and a space for her to work on her laptop when she did inventory, web design, and other business-y type things. Sheets covered the floor to help with any spills and all in all, the place was a mess. A cold mess since her windows were still open to help dry her most recent work as it sat on the easel. 

Pencils, sketches, brushes, and paint everywhere.

“I’m not exactly the neatest person,” she stated with a forced chuckle. 

Christen didn’t seem to hear her as she walked around the room with an obvious fascination. She stood in front of the storage rack and carefully moved canvas after canvas aside to look at them.

“These are beautiful,” she exhaled.

“Oh. Thank you.” Tobin took a step forward as Christen reached the section of her most recent work. “Oh, don’t… not that… one,” she trailed off quietly as her new girlfriend zeroed in on one particular painting. She gulped before she moved to stand next to Christen. “Totally didn’t mean to be creepy,” she started to explain.

Christen laughed and turned her head to look at Tobin with a tender smile. “No one’s ever painted me before.”

Tobin felt a blush creep up her cheeks. “Yeah, well,” she shrugged.

She had awoken one morning to find Christen drinking coffee on her balcony in that large, red Stanford t-shirt that she loved to wear. With the view of the ocean and the morning sun, Tobin had been a little inspired. Her painting had captured that moment.

Christen slowly shifted her body to face her fully and brought her hands up to clutch her biceps. “You are incredibly talented,” she said earnestly.

Tobin felt more bashful than she had in years. “Thank you.”

“Do you paint all the girls you like?” Christen asked with a teasing smirk.

The artist shook her head and held Christen’s waist. It could easily be a move. Sometimes, being an artist was like being in a band. Women saw her work and got an instant talent crush. She could easily exploit that to romance even more women, but she never did. It just felt weird. Her art wasn’t a seduction technique, but she had wanted to paint Christen from the moment she had laid eyes on her.

“No. The last woman I painted was my Mom,” she laughed. “Abstract is more my thing. Sometimes landscapes. I’m all over the map really, but never portraits.”

Christen slowly leaned in and pressed her mouth to Tobin’s with purpose. “You can paint me as much as you want,” she murmured.

The kiss deepened and Tobin skillfully maneuvered Christen around the clutter until she was leaning against the desk.

“I missed you,” Tobin muttered as she kissed along Christen’s jaw and down her neck. “The way you smell. The way you taste.”

Christen moaned and hitched her legs around Tobin’s hips, with her bottom fully planted on the desk.

Tobin unbuttoned the woman’s casual blouse and followed the path with kisses as new skin was exposed. She felt very task oriented all of a sudden. She wanted Christen naked and trembling. “The way you sound when I make you come,” she continued. “I bet you tried to find someone who could make you come like I can. Didn’t work, did it?” She asked arrogantly.

Christen grabbed her face with both hands and pulled her in until they were nose to nose. “You’re forgetting something important.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“That you don’t want anyone as much as you want me,” she declared confidently.

Tobin stared at her with probing eyes before she practically growled. “Bedroom. Now.”

She chased Christen down the stairs and through the last door in the hallway. The lawyer already had her blouse off by the time Tobin caught her around the waist and pressed her face into her neck. Their clothes come off hurriedly and she finally tossed Christen onto the bed when they were down to their underwear. She lifted Christen to the top of the bed with one hand in the small of her back and her mouth on her collarbone.

She groaned loudly when she finally slipped a hand into Christen’s underwear. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” Christen whined and tangled her fingers in Tobin’s long hair. “Tell me it’s for me,” Tobin husked.

“You know it is.”

“Yeah, but I want you to say it,” she chuckled gruffly.

She knew that Christen was rolling her eyes, but she also answered with, “You know it is. For you. Just you.”

Tobin hummed triumphantly and wrapped her index fingers around the waistband so that she could pull Christen’s underwear down her legs. She kissed down her torso slowly, paying special attention to her breasts once she unhooked the bra and murmuring that her nipples were so perfect and needed to be sucked on. She had just started to nuzzle against Christen’s pubic bone when she felt fingers digging into her shoulders.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Christen begged breathlessly.

Tobin looked up, concerned, and moved to hover above her body so that they were eye to eye. “What is it?” She asked softly. “Is something wrong? Did I–?”

Christen shook her head to cut her off. “No, no, not at all, definitely not. I just…” The lawyer looked shy all of a sudden and it made Tobin smile. It was not a look that she was used to. “I wanna come at the same time.”

Tobin swept a hand through Christen’s hair as she smiled and then she placed a playful kiss on the tip of her nose. “Okay. How do you want to do that?”

Christen worked a hand between them and pushed it inside of Tobin’s boxers, the only item of clothing left on her body. “This is good,” she grinned.

Tobin grinned back at her and nodded. She used her right hand, so there wasn’t so much of their limbs awkwardly bumping against each other, and held herself up on her left forearm.

With their mouths openly pressed together, and a lot of panting, and fighting against the urge to thrust her hips a little too hard, Tobin could feel that she was close.

“Chris,” she groaned, “I’m close. Are you…? Can you…? _Baby_ …”

Christen’s hips bucked at the term of endearment and Tobin remembered that she had a card to play.

“Baby girl, come for me.”

She felt Christen tighten around her fingers and with a sense of accomplishment, she applied a little added pressure to Christen’s clit and then dropped her forehead against her shoulder.

“Mmmm,” Christen spoke after several minutes of silence. She ran her hands down Tobin’s back and finally settled at the base of her spine. “That felt so good,” she whispered in Tobin’s ear.

Tobin smiled against Christen’s sweaty skin and placed a kiss on her jaw before she rolled onto the other side of the bed. “Yeah, it was,” she whispered back. “I really missed you.” There was another beat of comfortable silence before Tobin enthusiastically rolled back towards her girlfriend and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Okay,” she began excitedly. “It’s cuddling time.” 

Christen laughed quietly, but Tobin was still a tad surprised when the other woman gripped her forearm and pulled her closer.

“You know, I usually read before bed, but this is a nice alternative,” she joked.

Tobin laughed as well and let her eyes fall closed. She was in that fuzzy stage of falling asleep when Christen spoke softly.

“I’ve never been in love… maybe that’s why I’m so mean.”

“I don’t think you’re mean,” Tobin replied immediately. “I think you say what you’re feeling. I think in your line of work it’s a benefit to tell the truth.”

“Maybe why I’m scared then.”


	5. Fire and Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a tumblr or anything to direct you to longer, more insightful posts so I'll just encourage you to listen, read, learn, protest, donate, support Black businesses - as much as you can for as many as you can. I am a white teacher in a mostly white school and there is a lot that I can do to be better.
> 
> Black Lives Matter. Stay safe.

_“Ice burns, and it is hard to the warm-skinned to distinguish one sensation, fire, from the other, frost.”  
\- A.S. Byatt_

Tobin absolutely loved having a girlfriend. Well maybe it was the added element of being Christen’s girlfriend that she really enjoyed. Christen’s job kept her very busy and Tobin was more or less able to set her own hours, sometimes painting all night and sleeping all day, but they had developed a routine. One that involved morning coffee, sunset walks down the Venice boardwalk, finding old bookstores and record shops to explore on the weekends, and kissing. Lots and lots of kissing. They took a lot of time to slowly kiss and explore, something that they hadn’t taken as much time to do when the focus had been on sex, so there was a lot of kissing and making out on the couch. And, of course, more than kissing. They definitely hadn't taken a celibate approach to their new relationship.

Not everything had gone according to plan. She certainly hadn’t wanted Christen to get sick after their first real date. (Apparently Tobin’s favourite taco truck did not agree with her princess.) She had rebounded by taking her to Griffith Observatory at night. It was totally cheesy and a LA cliché, but the gentle smile on Christen’s face had made it worth it.

Tobin wiped down her countertop and carefully picked up the cappuccino that she had just taken the time to make. With a second cup in hand, she carefully made her way up the stairs and onto the rooftop deck. She placed the two cups on the table of the patio set and then bent down to pet a sunbathing Morena.

Christen wasn’t far away, going through yoga positions in a sports bra and incredibly tight, incredibly short shorts.

Tobin took a seat and waited as long as she could before she whistled.

God... her girlfriend's ass...

Christen turned her head and simply arched a challenging eyebrow.

“I’m just enjoying the view… of the beach.”

Christen rolled her eyes, but then, three poses later, she was sitting in her lap. The lawyer wrapped an arm around her shoulders and placed a soft kiss on her mouth. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Tobin grinned as she rubbed her girlfriend’s thigh. “I made you a cappuccino.”

Christen kissed her again before she murmured a thank you and reached for the mug on the table.

Tobin pushed her nose against Christen’s hairline as the woman enjoyed her hot beverage and tilted her face up towards the sun. “Are you done yoga?” She eventually whispered. Christen hummed and so Tobin started to kiss down her neck. “Can I take you back to bed? Baby, your ass looks fantastic in these shorts.”

“I thought you were enjoying the view of the beach,” Christen chuckled.

“I was,” she confirmed, “… and your body being all bendy.”

Christen smiled, almost triumphantly, before she placed her coffee mug back on the table and wrapped both of her arms around Tobin’s shoulders. “You like that my body is so bendy,” she rasped.

“Oh, do I ever, but I might need a refresher. Now. Privately.”

Christen dipped her head to kiss Tobin slowly, then she moved down her neck, across her shoulder, and her lips touched whatever skin she could reach. However, they were interrupted by yelling coming from somewhere below them.

“TOOOOE-BIINNNN! COME OUT AND PLAY!”

“What in the world is that?” Christen asked in confusion. 

Tobin laughed to herself as she tilted her head back. “That is my posse.” And she could tell Christen was even more confused by her answer. “There’s this group of kids that play soccer on the beach. I played with them one day, and now every time when they ask,” she laughed.

Christen smiled widely, suddenly more interested in this story than sex. “Do you want to go out and play?” She questioned with a laugh bordering on a giggle.

“Do you want to come? Do you like soccer?” She asked hopefully.

“I love soccer. I played in college.”

Tobin wasn’t able to smile any wider if she tried. She gently lifted Christen off of her lap and moved to the edge of the rooftop. “Can my girlfriend play too?” She yelled. 

“YAAYYYY!”

Tobin chased Christen up the beach, back towards her place, with a loud laugh. She finally caught her around the waist when Christen let her – it was clear that she had slowed down intentionally.

“You are fast,” Tobin panted in her ear.

“I told you,” Christen chuckled.

“And I may have thought you were exaggerating your skills.”

“Figures,” the lawyer huffed. “Especially with your ego.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Tobin asked playfully.

“Oh nothing.”

Christen squealed when Tobin threw her over her shoulder and patted her on the butt. “You really don’t have any manners.”

“Tobin, put me down,” she giggled.

She gently smacked Christen’s ass again and was quickly reminded of how turned on she had been just a few hours ago, and how she had left things very unfinished when she had bounded out of her place to play soccer. She trudged the rest of the way to her place in the sand and took the side steps up onto the front balcony. She placed Christen on her feet and promptly wrapped her arms around her waist. Christen erupted into melodious laughter again as Tobin swiftly dipped her head to nip at her neck.

“Okay, stop,” Christen laughed as she squirmed out of Tobin’s grasp. “You’ve made your point.”

“And what point is that?” 

Christen ignored her question as she started to walk backwards, toward the sliding glass door that led back into the apartment. “I’m going to set up the chess board and get you a big glass of water.”

Tobin grinned at her before she turned back to the view of the sand and the ocean and leaned her forearms on the edge of the glass that framed the patio. She heard footsteps behind her and slowly turned to give her girlfriend one of her signature grins. What she did not expect to see was a leggy blonde in a wetsuit unzipped down to her stomach making her way up the steps.

“Hey Tobin.”

“Oh hey…”

“Rachel,” the girl supplied with a chuckle.

“Rachel,” Tobin repeated awkwardly. “Sorry.”

Rachel waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Want to go surfing? _Again_?”

Tobin opened her mouth to mumble a response and an excuse, but before she could force any intelligible sounds past her lips, Christen walked back through the sliding door with what Tobin knew was a fake smile plastered on her face.

“Hi there.”

“Hi,” Rachel smiled back. “I was just talking to Tobin about surfing. Do you want to come with?”

Christen didn’t hesitate to come up behind Tobin and move her hands across her abdomen, possessively. “I think Tobin is a little busy,” she said as she rested her chin on Tobin’s shoulder. “Don’t you think, baby?”

“I am,” she confirmed. “Busy.”

“And she’ll need her energy so surfing later is probably out of the question.”

Tobin had to suppress a laugh as her hands came to rest on top of Christen’s. She had not expected this. Christen Press did not strike her as the jealous type. Had she been fighting jealousy while they had been hooking up?

She kind of loved it. 

“And for the foreseeable future,” Christen added with another smile that was anything but friendly.

“I surf mostly in the mornings now anyway,” Tobin tacked on a little more amicably.

When Rachel finally got the hint, Christen followed her path and locked the gate that led to the staircase. “Wouldn’t want any more unexpected visitors,” she muttered.

“Well, well, Miss Press,” Tobin laughed. “I did not see this one coming.”

Christen spun around with an annoyed expression on her face before she practically stomped towards her and gave her a bruising kiss with both hands on her hips. “Tobin Heath,” she husked against her lips. “If we’re in a relationship and you’re fucking me then you’re not fucking anyone else, understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tobin smirked. “I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

Christen raised a hand to grip her chin before she kissed her again, a little demanding and totally hot.

“I know you’ve been a bit of a womanizer and—”

Tobin cut her off with a ‘shh’ and a soft kiss. “Hey, this is what I want. You know this is what I want.”

“Show me,” Christen requested as she trailed her fingers along Tobin’s jaw.

“My pleasure. Get in the bedroom, gorgeous.”

Tobin absolutely loved fucking Christen with a strap-on. There were a lot of things that she loved about having sex with Christen, but on the top of that list were things that seemed to amplify when she slipped that harness up her legs and crawled onto the bed like she was the cockiest, and luckiest, person on the entire planet.

Christen was so god damn responsive with the new dildo inside of her and Tobin loved to watch her reactions to the slightest change of pace or the angle of her hips. Christen loved Tobin’s hands everywhere and a strap-on provided the perfect opportunity to touch her everywhere. Her thighs. Her hips. Her ass. Her breasts. She could stroke her sides and pull on her hair as she kissed her, and nipped at her neck, and licked at her jaw.

“ _Tobin_ ,” Christen whined as she gripped the muscles in her back.

“What do you need, baby?” Tobin husked as she gripped Christen’s thigh, hitching her leg higher around her waist before her hand dropped lower to cup a butt cheek.

Christen’s hips bucked again before she answered. “Get on your back. Let me ride you.”

Tobin immediately fulfilled the request and her hands locked on to Christen’s hips. She swallowed thickly as her eyes travelled over her girlfriend’s glistening caramel skin before they finally settled between the apex of her thighs. “You are so beautiful,” she said through gritted teeth.

Christen grinned and anchored her hands on Tobin’s shoulders.

“You love riding me, don’t you?” Tobin groaned.

Christen chuckled as she swiped her thumb over Tobin’s bottom lip and dipped it inside of her mouth. “You love it, you mean,” she retorted.

Tobin grinned around the digit. “You do such a good job and you look so good,” she mumbled. She reached upwards to play with the ends of Christen’s curly hair with a smile. She had learned that it was a rarity for the woman to wash her hair and let it dry on its own. But she loved it like this, wild and untamed. Her hands moved to cup Christen’s breasts and as she touched her nipples, Christen made a high-pitched sound that meant she was close to orgasm. “Feels good, doesn’t it, baby? You love getting fucked like this.”

Christen nodded with a whimper and trapped her bottom lip between her teeth. Her hands shifted to find stability on Tobin’s muscled abdomen as she rolled her hips faster and faster.

Tobin felt like a complete horny mess watching Christen fall apart and then collapse onto her chest. She ran her hands down Christen’s back as the woman panted against her ear. And she was patient, despite the fact that her clit was _throbbing_.

“Fuck,” Christen finally breathed.

“Yeah, baby,” Tobin spoke while her fingers played down Christen’s spine, “I’m glad you feel good.”

Christen lifted her head enough to join their mouths and she kissed Tobin with enthusiasm. One thing that Tobin had noticed since they had made their relationship status official was that Christen was very appreciative of her… appreciation. The more generous and passionate Tobin was, the more she was. It was a vicious cycle of really good, really intense, really emotionally intimate sex. And Tobin loved it.

She carefully rolled Christen onto her side and the lawyer efficiently removed the harness around Tobin’s hips. “You must be so sensitive,” she spoke through kisses. “I didn’t ride you too hard, did I?”

“Never,” Tobin laughed. “You can be as rough as you want with me, pretty girl.”

Christen kissed her again, oh so softly, before those kisses descended down her body. “Let me kiss it better,” she purred.

Tobin chuckled gruffly as she tangled her fingers in her girlfriend’s curly hair and came under her mouth in about eight seconds flat.

But Tobin was far from done.

As Christen settled on her back with a satisfied smile on her face, Tobin trailed her fingers down her arm and asked a mischievous question. “Are you still jealous?”

The lawyer turned to her with slightly narrowed eyes. “Of your revolving door of women? Definitely not,” she scoffed. “Do all of them look like that? All tan with windswept hair in wetsuits?”

Tobin continued to grin devilishly as her fingers moved to trace from delicate hipbone to delicate hipbone. How had Christen never shown her this side of herself before? It was incredibly fun. She leaned in to place a kiss on the top of Christen’s shoulder. “Mine,” she mumbled happily. “Mine. Mine. Mine.”

“You sound like those seagulls in _Finding Nemo_. Stop.”

Tobin lifted her head and laughed before she did an impression from the classic kids movie. “Mine,” she squawked.

Christen laughed fondly with a typical eye roll. “You’re so annoying.”

Tobin shifted so that she was lying half on top of the smaller woman. “Am I still annoying when I’m making you moan, and scream, and tremble?”

“Yes, especially then.” 

Christen answered with such a serious expression, and Tobin patiently waited for the façade to crack. A reluctant smile pulled at the corner of her mouth until she couldn’t contain it any longer.

“You don’t think I’m annoying at all,” Tobin pressed playfully as she rubbed the tip of her nose against her girlfriend’s. “You're like super into me,” she continued to tease.

Christen wrapped a hand around the back of Tobin’s neck and held her in place for a slow, passionate kiss. “Yeah,” the lawyer finally admitted.

Their work routines did not naturally gel and Christen had to fight every urge that she had to run. Because it was so much easier. She had forgotten how much work was needed in a relationship, even one where you had insane chemistry, and Christen found the balancing act of their vastly different occupations incredibly challenging. Christen was regimented in her work, with her planner and her files, even her choice of wardrobe. Tobin was as far from regimented as she could imagine. Sometimes she would paint for hours without a break, forgoing sleep, and sometimes she wouldn’t paint for days. Tobin always said it was the ‘muse’ with a playful grin. And it was impossible to know when the muse would strike.

But… with everything that frustrated Christen about it, there was something about Tobin and her art, and her process, that was so enthralling. Passionate. Beautiful. She loved the way that Tobin would sometimes sit with her sketchbook and watch her work. When Christen asked what she was doing, Tobin would reply with something incredibly sweet like how she was trying to capture her hands on paper because they were so beautiful.

It was hard to be mad at the muse after something like that.

However, she did wish that Tobin would observe a bedtime.

She had already stayed up well past midnight and Tobin was still in the loft painting. Morena padded softly after her as she made her way up the spiral staircase. She found Tobin staring at her canvas with a frown so she gently rested her chin on the artist’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around her waist.

“What’s wrong, Tobs?” She questioned softly.

“Something’s just… off…”

Christen frowned as well as she started to rub her girlfriend’s abdomen. “Maybe it’s time to take a break. Come to bed?” Morena whined and nudged Tobin’s thigh with her nose. “See,” Christen smiled, “it’s time for bed.” Tobin continued to frown at the canvas that was half covered in black and varying shades of blue. She was working on a night sky, maybe? “Baby,” Christen cooed in her ear. “Come to bed. Sleep on it. I’m going to bed and it’s cold without you in it.”

Tobin finally turned around and placed a kiss on her mouth. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Christen nodded in acceptance and finally found her way to Tobin’s bed. She had no idea how much time had passed, as she felt exhausted as soon as her body hit the mattress, but it had definitely been longer than five minutes when Tobin awoke her with soft kisses on her neck and cheek. She smelled like paint and pot, two scents that Christen was getting used to, and the fabric of her t-shirt was so soft.

“Baby, it’s late,” she mumbled sleepily.

“It’s Sunday. You don’t work on Sundays.”

“Not anymore,” she clarified in another mumble.

She had really cut back on working on the weekends since she had started dating Tobin.

“So we can stay up a little late,” Tobin whispered huskily in her ear.

“Is this the muse talking?” She giggled.

“Most definitely.” 

Tobin worked a big hand up underneath the long t-shirt that she had worn to bed and pressed her fingers into the spaces between her ribs, making her squirm and giggle. “You’re not going to paint me naked like something out of _Titanic_ , are you?”

The artist chuckled, her warm breath hitting Christen’s ear. “No, I could never. I don’t have that kind of discipline. I’d be way too turned on. I could maybe photograph you naked though.”

“Okay,” Christen laughed as she pushed against Tobin’s shoulders. “Stop thinking about it.”

Tobin settled next to her on her side and smiled goofily. “Right, why am I thinking about you naked when I could just get you naked?” 

She reached out to hold Tobin’s face between her hands and she spoke as softly as she could. “Tobin, I know you’re excited because you obviously just had some kind of creative breakthrough, but I am _so_ tired.”

Tobin’s face quickly shifted into an expression of horror. “Shit, I am so sorry. I was totally just pressuring you.”

Christen kissed her gently, reassuringly. “You’re fine. Honestly. I just want you to cuddle me right now.”

Tobin smiled and slipped an arm around her waist. “You got it. Sorry for being a horn dog,” she murmured.

She laughed loudly at Tobin’s word choice. “You’re a very sweet horn dog. Don’t worry, no one makes me do anything I don’t want to do, even you.”

Christen fell back to sleep almost immediately, with Tobin’s warm body beside her, and she groaned in frustration when her cellphone rang to wake both of them just an hour later.

“What the hell?” Tobin slurred before she rolled over and pressed her face into a pillow.

Christen was accustomed to this kind of call, but Tobin certainly wasn’t. She primly sat up, brushed stray tendrils of hair out of her face, and reached for her phone on the bedside table. “Hello,” she answered, and she sounded as awake and alert as possible.

The conversation was short, but direct. It was Becky. They had a client, and she had to get to the office. 

As she moved to get out of the bed, Tobin raised her messy bedhead. “Whassa happenin’? Where ya going?”

“I have to go to the office.”

“But it’s like four in the morning?”

“Duty calls,” she responded dryly. Tobin still looked very confused, but also very adorable. She leaned down and placed a kiss on her temple. “I will be back as soon as I can. I don’t know how bad it is yet.”

Christen slowly moved into the bathroom and before she closed the door behind her, she watched Morena get up from the big dog bed on the floor (another gift from Tobin) and jump onto the mattress to settle beside her girlfriend – and new favourite person.

“Traitor,” she whispered with a grin.

Christen pressed her fingers into her temple as she felt like her eyes were about to burn out of her head. It was well into the afternoon, she was exhausted, and she had just gotten her first opportunity to sit down and relax since walking into the office. She supposed it was to be expected when she learned that their middle of the night clients had just been arrested at a busy nightclub for assault. Very cut and dry except that the pair in question were an up and coming heartthrob with a Netflix show about to drop and his best friend who had just gone in the first round of the NBA draft. With that much ego and testosterone, it had been necessary for her and Becky to storm into the LA County jail and tell them, and their “teams”, exactly how it was going to go if they wanted to salvage their careers that hadn’t even started yet.

She had just rested her head on her office sofa and allowed herself to close her eyes, for just a moment, when she heard a tap on her door. She forced an eye open and quickly got to her feet. 

It was Tobin. And she had coffee.

Christen rushed to the door and promptly threw her arms around Tobin’s neck. “You brought me coffee,” she whispered in disbelief, like it was the most romantic gesture she could imagine.

“And a sandwich,” Tobin clarified. “I figured you probably haven’t stopped to eat.”

She sighed happily before she eagerly pressed her mouth to Tobin’s and gave her a kiss that was far from appropriate in the workplace.

Her tongue was still in Tobin’s mouth when she heard snickering and giggling. “I hope this is someone other than an Uber Eats driver because that is one hell of a tip, Pressy.”

“I also brought them coffee,” Tobin murmured against her lips.

Christen kissed her one more time before she slowly pulled away. She kept her arms around Tobin’s shoulders as she turned her head towards her co-workers gathered around the conference room table. “Sorry,” she chuckled, “coffee is my love language. This is Tobin,” she introduced as she placed a possessive hand on the artist’s sternum. “My girlfriend.”

“No wonder you’ve been so happy lately,” Crystal grinned. “Thank you very much for the coffee and treats, Tobin.”

“Not a problem.”

“Omg,” Mallory giggled, her reaction giving away her age. “It’s best sex you’ve ever had.”

Tobin promptly straightened her shoulders and her grin was far too self-satisfied. “Please feel free to tell me more about that.”

“Don’t you have lots of work to do, Mal?” Christen asked sternly.

The young woman looked down sheepishly and nodded. “Yeah… yeah, I do.”

“Let’s go into my office,” she said quietly.

With the rest of the office calling out thank yous, Christen tugged Tobin into her office, locked the door, and closed the blinds. Tobin placed the cup of coffee and brown paper bag that she was holding on the desk before she turned to face Christen, whose back was pressed against the door. Tobin was wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and a backwards snapback, looking as effortlessly casual and sun kissed as she always did, and unbelievably smug.

“Don’t say a word,” Christen warned as she walked closer.

Tobin shrugged. “Totally wasn’t going to. Just bringing you coffee, a sandwich, and a kiss. Just coffee and a sandwich from the best sex you’ve ever had.”

Christen pinched her side without hesitation and Tobin laughed as she took a step to the side. “I have never said that," she denied. "That’s just little Mal Pugh. She did a three and three law program, she’s practically still a teenager.”

“Uh huh,” Tobin replied with a smirk. “Sure.” 

Christen could feel a flush creeping into her cheeks and the only comeback she could muster was, “Shut up.”

Tobin laughed again before she stepped back into Christen’s reach and wrapped her arms around her waist. “It’s okay, baby. It’s totally not your fault that I am such a stud.”

Christen rolled her eyes and placed both of her hands on the tops of Tobin’s shoulders. “Let’s go back to when I thought you were terribly sweet for bringing me food and coffee after a long day. Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

“And maybe, if you’re not terribly annoying for the next five minutes, I will fuck your brains out when I get home.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tobin husked as her eyes dropped to Christen’s lips.

The lawyer swallowed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Tobin smoothly lifted her off the ground and perched her on the edge of her large desk. “I kinda always look at you like this.”

Her hands trailed down Tobin’s muscled arms before she gripped the pristine white t-shirt. “You are so much trouble, and you should go before I do something that I shouldn’t in this office.”

“Like what?” Tobin probed with a dangerous look in her eyes.

Christen tilted her head and nudged Tobin’s nose with her own before she joined their mouths again. It was soft and slow, she didn’t want to start something that she couldn’t finish. She gently grazed her girlfriend’s bottom lip with her teeth as she tore herself away with a hum. “I’ll be done soon and then I’ll drop by your place, okay?”

Tobin nodded. But she didn’t step back, and her hands stayed on Christen’s waist. “Can’t wait,” she whispered. “You’re like super sexy in a pants suit in work mode.”

Christen rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t resist pulling Tobin in for one last kiss before she left.

Christen was pretty sure that she was absolutely in love with Tobin Heath. It seemed implausible, totally preposterous, after all they had barely been officially dating a month, but it was the only explanation that she could come up with for everything that had happened today.

The way that she had reluctantly gotten out of bed for an emergency work call.

The feeling that she had gotten in her stomach from seeing Tobin in her office doorway with coffee and a cheesy smile.

The fact that she hadn’t been completely mortified by Tobin strolling into her office, unannounced, and meeting her co-workers while dressed like a teenage boy competing at the X-Games. Just a few months ago she would have lost it because of such a small, insignificant thing.

The sharp shot of arousal that she had felt when Tobin had placed her on top of her desk.

The way that she couldn’t stop smiling as she stood at the foot of Tobin’s bed and watched her sleep, with Morena’s head adorably resting on her stomach.

She hadn’t left work as early as she had initially anticipated and, in a role reversal, Tobin had fallen asleep on her.

She continued to stare and smile until Morena lifted her head and let out a happy yelp upon seeing her.

“Shhh, hey there, girl,” she cooed as Morena got up and trotted to the end of the bed.

Tobin sluggishly propped herself up on her elbows and blinked at her. “Oh shit, I fell asleep.”

Christen scratched her beloved dog behind the ears and smiled at her cute, sleepy girlfriend. “It’s okay, give me a few minutes and I’ll join you.”

Tobin gave her an excited grin and licked her lips. “Well take off your clothes and come here.”

Christen grinned back at her and patted Morena’s side as a command for her to leave. The dog bounded out of the room and Christen took that as her cue to begin to unbutton her blouse. She stripped down to her bra and panties and took her hair out of the bun that it had been in all day. She straddled Tobin’s slim hips and closed her eyes in pleasure as Tobin dragged the tips of her fingers across her collarbone, down her abdomen, and along the cups of her bra.

She sighed loudly and tilted her head back when Tobin’s touch became more pronounced. She heard Tobin’s throaty chuckle as the artist purposefully pinched and tweaked her nipples.

“Let me take care of you tonight, Chris. Let me make you feel good.”

Christen whimpered an obvious assent and Tobin gently laid her back on the mattress. She closed both of her eyes again and tangled her hands in her own hair as Tobin crawled between her legs, slowly pulled down her panties, and slipped a pillow underneath her hips.

And it was weird. Not anything that Tobin was doing, obviously. Tobin was perfect. Her fingers gripping her thighs. Her tongue licking through her. And she knew, absolutely without a doubt, even with her eyes closed, that Tobin was looking up at her. Watching her closely for every reaction. But the way that she felt was weird. So satisfied so quickly and so overwhelmed with a bunch of emotions that she couldn’t quite put a name on. She came with a loud cry and then fell silent, her eyes still closed and her bottom lip pinched between her teeth.

“Are you okay?” Tobin whispered as she kissed along her jaw.

Christen nodded and wrapped her arms around Tobin’s back. She wanted to feel every inch of Tobin pressed against her. “Fine,” she squeaked, her voice thick with emotion. She stretched her toes and finally opened her eyes to see Tobin looking at her with deeply concerned eyes. “I am,” she reassured. “You make me feel good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Uh huh,” she whimpered.

Tobin’s expression only became more alarmed and she shifted to cup Christen’s cheek. “Is this about work?”

She adamantly shook her head and pressed her face against her girlfriend’s neck. “You’re really good to me.”

“Okay…”

“Too good.”

“Christen, what is going on? Please tell me so that I can—”

“I think I'm in love with you,” she whispered.

She squeezed her eyes shut once more when she felt Tobin’s body tense. What a stupid thing to say. She should have kept her mouth shut. It was way too fucking soon. She desperately wanted to curl into Tobin and pretend that she hadn’t said anything but Tobin was rolling the two of them onto their sides and holding her face with both hands. The artist gently nudged her cheeks with her nose and kept whispering her name. She finally opened her eyes with a sigh and was taken aback by Tobin’s blinding smile and bright eyes.

With her full attention, Tobin began to speak. “You are absolutely incredible and you just need to let me love you. Okay?” She kissed her before she confessed, “I’ve been telling you I love you every night for the past little while. You’ve been sleeping of course.”

Christen laughed uncontrollably and smacked Tobin’s shoulder. “You creep!”

Tobin shrugged unabashedly. “I knew you weren’t ready to hear it and I couldn’t keep it in. It seemed like a good solution.”

Christen continued to laugh until she said seriously, “Well tell me, I’m ready to hear it now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah. This short story has been a journey! This story is over, but I don't think I'm leaving this world completely. Tobin taking this version of CP camping is a hilarious idea that I may explore.
> 
> I also have ideas for two ridiculous oneshots so we'll see what happens there! Lol.
> 
> Feel free to send me along other ideas for deep contemplation.


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